


But I Swear I Know, My Heart Can Grow

by knightlysoulsnatcher



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Hanji, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eren and Levi have an age gap but it's not bigger than ten years, Eventual Smut, Graduate student Eren, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Pining, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Indulgent, Sensual Affection within Platonic Relationships is Important, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, Soulmarks are the first time you reveal your true self to someone, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, They are not soulmates, and both are adults, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightlysoulsnatcher/pseuds/knightlysoulsnatcher
Summary: In a world with various soulmates, Levi only has one mark for a romantic soulmate. He doesn't know who, or where, they are. There's only one thing he's certain of: Eren is not his soulmate.Despite himself, Levi agrees to date Eren, tells himself that he'll stop when he meets his romantic mate; however, the more time Levi spends with Eren, the less he wants to leave.





	1. I don't have to see you right now

**Author's Note:**

> This resulted from reading several soulmate fics wherein one (or more) of the characters *hair flip* "didn't want a soulmate" then immediately melted when they found one. I wanted to play with the concept of soulmates ingrained in a character and them falling for someone that isn't "destined" for them. 
> 
> For reference: in this universe, soulmate marks are separated by two type: platonic and romantic. Someone can have both types or one type or no types (though the latter are super rare). The marks are a line of dialogue from the first conversation you have with someone wherein you are both vulnerable; essentially, the marks are of the first time you get to see who your soulmate really is. 
> 
> Happy ending, but Eren and Levi will remain not-proper-soulmates.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from Little Ballerina by Emile Hayne, Chapter Title from Mt. Washington by Local Natives

            His arm feels warm against the wood of the table. Levi sits by the window of the café, basking in the sounds of soft voices, the music mixing pleasantly with scattered conversations. Occasionally, he reaches for the cup of coffee before him. Halfheartedly reads a novel Hanji recommended weeks ago—not bad, but not his type—all the while keeping one hand wrapped absentmindedly around the brown mug.

            This is the sixth visit to this café, and each drink he’s ordered left him satisfied. He’ll more than likely go through with selling his tea here, but he will hold off on the decision until after his seventh visit.

            As Levi decides to finish the chapter then leave, the remnants of his drink too gritty for his taste, the barista greets the latest newcomer with an intriguing, exuberant familiarity. Levi hasn’t seen much real emotion from her in any of his visits; he turns slightly and watches two men—one tall, boyish, the other short and unassuming—enter.

            The tall one’s gaze snags Levi’s, the bright blue-green eyes too large, too piercing.

            If Levi lets his stare continue, it might beckon unwanted attention. Levi doesn’t feel like plodding through customary greetings. He is, suddenly, uncomfortably aware of his shirt sleeves, the way they hang just past his elbows.

            While the short man wears a long sweater, the other’s sleeves are ripped, just barely covering the soul-marked sections of skin. Daring, taunting—it is forbidden to bear your markings in public. Involuntarily, Levi licks his lips, hands shaking slightly. Clenches them, looks away, hating the wetness on his mouth.

            Levi focuses on the novel once again, goes through three pages of text before he senses someone walking directly towards him. He can smell the man as he comes closer, spicy-sweet, and he hears him clear his throat. Levi ignores it, hoping he’ll take the hint.

            “Do you think that the color of the sky might be different depending on how different people perceive the color blue?”

            He didn’t take the hint.

            Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes, looking up from the novel and finding the same piercing gaze. He forces his attention away from the man’s sleeves, glares up at him.

            Greetings ought to be short, clipped. Professional. You aren’t supposed to dig into conversations, fish for triggering the marks, and Levi especially hates people like this invasive man.

            “It doesn’t matter,” Levi replies.

            He should get the hint, but the man opens his mouth again.

            “You were staring at the sky earlier like you couldn’t tell what color it was.” The man shrugs. “I’ve heard people talk about color differences between different people, and you made me think of it.”

            Levi twists to better look at him. “How long were you watching me out the window?”

            His cheeks are red, and it doesn’t seem unlikely that the blush makes his lips a little bolder. Levi stares at his mouth for a minute, fighting a smirk. “Armin and I couldn’t decide where we wanted to go. I was bored.”

            “Bored? While arguing with your friend?”

            Eren’s nose twitches at the word friend. “You’d understand if you heard him talk about coffee.”

            “Let me get this straight,” Levi drawled, “you ignored your friend, stared at me, marched in here, and thought that it would be a good idea to tell me that you were watching me without even greeting me properly?”

            “Yeah.”

            Levi snorts. “Good to know someone has shittier social skills than me.” Twisting away from the man, Levi unlocks his kindle and mixes the remaining coffee in the mug. Ignores the flustered heat coating his skin, buries involuntary intrigue beneath irritation. 

            “I’m Eren.”

            “I’m reading.”

            “See you around, Reading.”

            Properly annoyed and surprised, Levi looks up, meeting Eren’s smirk with, hopefully, blank features. Aggravation seems to have no effect on Eren. “Bye.”

            True to his implications, Eren leaves Levi alone, sitting with the other man—Armin. The barista watches them with a fond smile that doesn’t last long when another customer enters, loudly demanding a large caramel macchiato.

~~~

            Levi returns to his apartment later in the evening than he’d like, but he makes no complaint as he removes his shoes and shrugs off his coat, hangs it next to the hook for his keys. Leaves his briefcase on the kitchen table, leather gleaming softly in the light.

            Pursing his lips, Levi enters his bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror. He wishes he could ignore the impulse, but wishing is empty and his hands pull up his sleeves automatically.

            No change on his left, the letters still pitch black, still feeling like nothing beneath his fingers. Traces each letter on each arm carefully, memorizing the words.

            His right arm has more marks, more lines of different mates, evidence of his platonic connections ebbing and flowing through the years. Not that he’d had many, but there are enough. Currently, Hanji, Isobel, and Farlan’s remain.

            Their respective words, confirmed, now gunmetal grey, reassuring on his skin.

            Traces their remnants, too, remembering the respective conversations, lucky enough to be branded with a good snippet from each interaction.

            Once finished, Levi brushes his teeth, washes his face, walks through the apartment, then burrows under the covers.

            Reads himself to sleep, vaguely irritated at Eren’s intrusion, but he finds himself letting it go before he falls asleep. No point in tainting tomorrow with a stranger’s harmless idiocy.

            Without malice or irritation, Levi wonders what color the sky is for others, what it is for him. Wonders if his romantic soulmate sees the same colors. That would make sense, soulmates seeing the same colors…

            Levi sighs, opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. His left arm bore the brunt of the romantic mark, the one that remained unchanged since he could remember. He doesn’t remember the exact age that one emerged, only that he finally had a reason to cover his upper arms. Hanji’s romantic mark never came; they’d confessed it to him one night, tipsy and hushed. They tried to contain their glee, relief, but Levi’d only blinked and nodded.

            (Neither of them speak of it now, the moment when Hanji seemed to realize Levi, for all his flaws, wasn’t scared away, didn’t regret their bond. Hanji, enthusiastic and energetic to outsiders, was nothing if not more flamboyant when comfortable.)

            Levi stares at the ceiling, at nothing, mind blank. He is only half-aware of himself, his arm draped over his stomach, his silky sheets, the way his body droops into sleep.

~~~

            The next day begins as any other does. Levi wakes at seven, makes breakfast, gets ready for work, goes to work. It feels mindless in a way that ought to be comforting; no longer does his stomach cramp with anxiety. The ability to avoid being hyperaware of your surroundings is one he objectively finds bittersweet. Subjectively, it doesn’t matter.

            He finds comfort in the proper snugness of his suit, the smoothness of his voice. He is still settling into the concept of managing a small chain of tea shops, but he finds the newness of it intriguing. It is more than he expected to have, and he feels little need to complain—though delegating tasks becomes something of a minefield.

            Sometimes, his success feels worthless.

            In the very least, he’s a financially appealing romantic soulmate.

            As he leaves his workplace to visit the latest café a seventh time, Levi absentmindedly considers going to the next mate mixer. Walks through the steps in his head, rehearsing the mundane pre-mixer activities, the awkward, nervous chatting before the official, organized socializing begins.

            Isobel met Farlan at one; given that they are for romantic mates, it makes sense that the events would appear successful, but Levi finds himself skirting away from the idea. Mixers, for all their acceptance and success, aren’t organic.

            He went to a few back in college, after several one-night-stands drove him into guilt.  The mixers only seemed to perpetuate the cycle, except those trysts ended messily, disappointing. For all their drawbacks, one night stands didn’t entail lasting connections, especially when unrelated to the possibilities of a soulmate discovery.

            When Levi reaches the entrance of the café, he notices a sign for the next mixer in the area. Strangely tempting for different reasons; perhaps his aversion to awkward small talk is why he doesn’t know his mate yet. Perhaps they'd be worth attending again with different motives, proper hope instead of guilt and yearning. 

            He opens the door to the café, mulling over the possibility. Strides to the counter and orders a small mocha and muffin. The cup is perfectly warm in his hands as he claims the same table beside the window.

            He picks the muffin apart as carefully as possible, the stickiness on his fingers rendering his phone and kindle untouchable. Normally, their absence is too obvious, aggravating—his focus on nothing in particular, thus causing him to be painfully aware of being directionless.

            He is considering allowing himself to sigh when—

            “Reading?”

            Levi blinks, looks up to find Eren standing beside his table. “Seriously? _Reading_?”

            “You have no one to blame,” Eren says as he slides into the chair across from Levi. “I’m only using what you gave me.”

            “Why are you here?”

            “I’ve been coming to this café for a year and a half; I’ve only seen you here four times. I don’t think you can ask that.”

            Levi rolls his eyes as though that wasn’t what he meant. “Why are you at my table?”

            Eren stares into his eyes—has been this whole time, really, but the fact that he keeps staring intrigues Levi. People who meet Levi’s gaze and hold it for a prolonged period of time usually do so unpleasantly, but Eren’s attention feels warm, grounding. An illustration of his attention rather than dominance.

            Levi feels warm, and he breaks their connection by lifting the mug. He is afraid of blurting something stupid or dropping his drink, and he tries not to panic as the mug’s rim touches his lips when Eren snorts.

            _The little shit._ “You don’t get to laugh at how I hold this when you aren’t welcome here.”

            Again, Eren is undeterred by Levi. “If I really wasn’t welcome here, I’m sure you would’ve kicked my ass. You don’t seem like a passive guy.”

            “Maybe that’s because I have some restraint.”

            “Somehow I don’t believe that.”

            Levi sniffs and feigns boredom, picking at his half-eaten muffin. “I doubt someone like you would know what restraint is.”

            “Oh?”

            Levi wishes he had a physical book in his hands, both for the distraction and the ability to ignore Eren with some measure of sophistication. “This conversation is evidence that you have no restraint.”

            Eren grins like he has a dirty secret, and Levi wishes he could miss the implications in his bared teeth, gleaming eyes. “Trust me, I have restraint.”

            “… Why did you come to my table?”

            “You looked like you needed company.”

            “Which time?”

            Eren shrugs. “It looked like something’s bothering you today. You were focusing on the muffin and scowling.”

            Levi restrains himself from rolling his eyes so hard he’d trigger a headache. “That’s just my face, brat.” There’s a strange silence, and Eren opens his mouth to speak, but Levi beats him to it. “Wait. How long were you watching me? How long have you been here?”

            “Oh. Um. Well. I was doing work with Armin, and I was taking a break, and I saw you walk in, and it seemed more interesting to watch you for a little while.”

            Student-Levi would sympathize, maybe even revel in the attention of an attractive man, but Present-Levi’s curiosity is not without suspicion. Levi is painfully aware of the blandness of their conversation, as though they are friends that have moved past the awkward stage of figuring out whether their marks would pulse, metaphorically tie them together. Except they aren’t friends, aren’t much of anything.

            The triggering conversation requires vulnerability, and Levi cannot imagine letting his guard down for Eren. Cannot, then wonders why he would even try to imagine connecting with a stranger in a café.

            Eren clears his throat. “I realize this is weird.”

            “You think?”

            “I just wanted—”

            Levi sighs. “Look, kid, we aren’t soulmates. We aren’t _going_ to be soulmates. I’m not gonna see you again. I’m not even sure if I want to see you again. Why are you trying so hard?”

            “You think I came over here to fish for a soulmate?” Eren looks every bit as offended as he sounds, recoiling in his seat, nose crinkled in disgust. Levi wants to feel insulted. “I didn’t come over here for _that_.”

            The genuine offense in Eren’s voice startles Levi.

            “What did you come over here for?”

            “It doesn’t matter. You clearly want to sulk alone.” The chair scrapes loudly behind Eren as he practically leaps out of his seat.

            “Gee, what was your first clue?” Levi wants his voice to come out scathing, send Eren away for good, but he can feel the slightest waver in his voice, the way the words don’t fill his mouth properly and pull against his teeth, lips, like thin bubblegum.

            Eren glares at Levi as he pauses beside the table. His mouth tries to form words, but it seems that his rage has rendered him speechless.

            Levi wants to understand his rage, feel it intimately, but his sides ache with disappointment and his fingers feel sticky-dry. Impulsively, he wants to hurt Eren. Grits his teeth and, instead, stands as calmly as possible, pushes the chair in, and turns to leave. His tongue feels heavy and scratchy-burnt in his mouth.

            “I’ll just leave you alone, then.”

            “Good.”


	2. you watched me sink, through the carpet, through the basement, and beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *shamelessly shoves my adoration of platonic cuddling on Levi*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Good Morning, Hypocrite by Electric President

Objectively, there is no reason for Levi to regret snapping at Eren. He invaded Levi’s space, assumed where he shouldn’t have assumed… Except, wasn’t it Levi who’d wrongfully assumed?

            He can’t stop thinking about Eren’s face, his eyes, the way his features crumpled and hardened. “Soulmate,” “ _that_ ,” sneered as though no one spent their whole lives aching for their mates, as though their whole way of life wasn’t constructed around the notion of divine partners.

            Levi didn’t believe in a deity—not entirely controversial, but not something most people spoke up about either—but he understands soulmates like he understands breathing or his heart beat, not intricately in a scientific sense, but with appreciation. Grudging appreciation at times, but appreciation nonetheless.

            He leans against the brick wall of the shop, just outside the window’s view. He still has time before he needs to go back to work, and he knows he could be productive and return, but his legs ache and he can’t stop staring at the drawing of a warm coffee cup on the outdoor blackboard sign.

            Without Isobel and Farlan, without Hanji… He doesn’t admit it out loud often, but he couldn’t imagine _not_ having them in his life. Not being there for each other, not spending time together or—

            His hands shake slightly as he reaches for his phone, opening his group chat with Isobel and Farlan.

            **Levi** : Can we move TV night to tonight?

            Locks his phone, stares at the blank screen, at his reflection. Clears his throat and pockets it again, opting to stare at his feet.

            Five minutes pass before he feels his phone vibrate.

            **Isobel** : Sure thing bro

            Another minute, then:

            **Farlan** : Works for me

            Levi’s arms are warm as he re-locks his screen and leans his head back against the wall. He knows he’ll miss them on Thursday, when they normally have TV night, but he can’t wait, doesn’t want to. They'll still have Sunday night for cuddling only, like always.

            Levi misses the taste of coffee in his mouth, regrets that this is a _good_ coffee shop, that he didn’t finish his drink, that he ardently _does not_ want to see Eren, not right now.

            He takes a deep breath and walks away from the shop, electing to grab coffee for Isobel and Farlan later.

~~~

            Eren’s coffee shop has Isobel’s favorite drink. Farlan’s easy; everyone has what he likes. Levi has a hard time finding places with proper Mexican hot chocolates. It would be the perfect treat for Isobel.

            But. Eren’s place.

            Levi sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. It’s one of those moments where he knows his ultimate decision before it happens, even though part of him wishes he didn’t. The sun is setting when he leaves his work for the day, the sky a beautiful mix of pink and orange. His breath catches in his throat as he spares occasional lingering glances upward.

            His office is not terribly far from the shop, and he considers walking, if only to appreciate the nice weather before it’s over, but it would be too inconvenient to go back for his car.

            The parking lot is half-full, and he wishes he knew which was Eren’s, but he shakes his head at himself and ignores the thought as best he can. Allows himself a brief flicker of annoyance before he taps his fingernails rhythmically against his legs and takes a few deep breaths, steeling himself for entering the shop.

            Slams his car door a little too forcefully, but it feels good, hearing the powerful thud. Locks his truck, hearing the beeps three times before he stops. Pauses, briefly, before the door, but there are large windows beside the entrance—self-consciousness drives him indoors.

            Levi likes to think he just looked straight ahead at the register, perhaps glancing up at the menu to double-check what he plans on ordering. And he would be right, in that he does, occasionally, find himself glancing at the menu or the register, but the truth of the matter is: Levi looks around the shop for Eren.

            He thinks he recognizes the back of Eren’s head, bent low over a thick textbook, but just as he’s allowing himself to double-check, the other man at the table—blonde hair, Armin, probably—looks up, meets his gaze.

            Armin—he assumes—looks equally impassive and cautious, though there is little doubt he recognizes Levi.

            A moment passes wherein their gazes are locked. He thinks he sees Armin’s lips quirk upward, but Levi’s attention drifts back to Eren’s head before returning to the register.

            Only to meet the too-steely gaze of the woman at the register, the same from the other day. Her gaze is coolly professional, though Levi wonders how much worse she would be if she wasn’t working.

            Levi knows she has some sort of relationship with Eren (and Armin) given her previous behavior. How deep that bond goes Levi can only assume; however, something about the situation aggravates him.

            Do they pay any attention? Eren’s the one who accosts Levi, not the other way around. Glaring at Levi is useless.

            “How may I help you?”

            Levi orders their drinks, considers another for himself. As soon as he speaks, something about the tension in the area increases. Levi’s stomach aches again, and he resolutely stares the woman—Mikasa—down as he debates buying himself another drink. Ignores the weight of additional gazes steadfastly.

            Decides to get himself another coffee. Pays, then moves to the waiting area.

            He pulls out his phone, if only to fiddle with something while he waits.

            **Levi** : I’m almost ready to leave. My place?

            **Isobel** : Works for us! We’ll meet you there :)

            Levi allows himself a small grin, nearly overwhelmed with calm, familiar eagerness. In the background, he thinks he hears someone set a mug down a little too harshly. Looking up despite the mug sounding wrong for a to-go order, he sees Mikasa preoccupied with preparing his order.

            Then, there are two mugs to the side of Levi, two tanned, defined hands attached to them.

            “Could you get us a refill, ‘Kasa?”

            Eren’s face looks forcefully calm, though exhaustion tugs at the edges of his gaze. It is obvious that, despite his tendencies to interrupt Levi’s existence, Eren works hard—or, at least, knows how to put on a good show of it.

            “Sure,” she says, voice warm. “Let me finish this first.”

            Levi feels the weight of unspoken words about him in the way she avoids speaking directly about Levi.

            Bluntly, he doesn’t know what to think about it.

            Then, there really isn’t anything _to_ think about, Levi decides. He doesn’t know these people and doesn’t exactly want to.

            But Eren looks at him and their gazes are locked and it is silent. The moment is quiet. Nothing from earlier is forgotten, but there is also little reason to explode in the present. Levi can feel the potential, but Eren turns away before anything can happen, returns to his table.

            Eren wears a less daring shirt today, more of a thick sweater, the sleeves going to his wrists. It is grey, and the color compliments his skin tone nicely. His dark jeans straddle the line between too-tight and uncomfortably baggy. Indecisive, but Eren himself has eyes that blaze like headlights. His hips sway as he walks. He has a confident walk—no surprise there.

            Armin is watching Levi again.

             Eren sits, looks back at Levi.

            Levi can feel the hairs on his arms rise, his heart stutter. Prays his face remains impassive as they stare.

            Armin coughs, says something to Eren, but all Eren does is pick up his pencil, eye contact remaining. Levi thinks his gaze dips to his lips, even as it retains far less warmth than it did during his previous invasions of Levi’s space. It is a defiant stare, even as Levi can sense the lingering attraction; Eren holds his stare only as a challenge, but Levi doesn’t miss the way his hands shake, the way anger is mixed with attraction.

            All the same, something about that lack of warmth disturbs Levi, even as he remembers where it came from. Remembers his comment about soulmates, and that discomfort morphs into both curiosity and explicit discomfort.

            He turns around, staring blandly at the counter. What was it Eren had said? No, no, not said directly—it was the look on his face, the disdain.

            Mikasa hands him his to-go drinks in a drink carrier. Levi nods a silent “thank you,” then removes himself from the shop without looking again at Eren.

            Levi will not enter that shop again.

~~~

            Levi enters the building’s elevator, drinks secure in his grasp. He feels jittery, knows the caffeine will make it worse but doesn’t care. Carefully, he picks up his coffee and sips at it.

            When he arrives at his apartment door, he can, very faintly, hear their voices, and he immediately feels better. As soon as he opens the door, Isobel and Farlan turn and grin at him.

            “Levi!” Isobel makes to hug him, then sees the coffee in his hands. Knowing better than to draw attention to his generosity, something Hanji has yet to learn (or, more than likely, elects to ignore), she merely grins at him and grabs her drink.

            Levi plays with Isobel’s hair affectionately as Farlan wraps one arm around Levi’s waist, the other reaching for his drink. Levi knows they're probably curious about the rescheduling, but, like their other TV nights, speaking is at a minimum. Unlike other occasions with them, Levi is allowed to control how much talking occurs.

            They stand near the entrance of the apartment, sipping the coffee quietly until Farlan asks Levi if he’d rather them go to the couch or the bed.

            “I don’t care. Isobel?”

            “Bed.”

            Levi and Farlan nod. They set their drinks on Levi’s kitchen countertop, they sound almost empty as they hit the hard surface, but Levi bites back his complaints.

            Farlan keeps his arm around Levi’s waist as they walk, Isobel capturing his left hand in hers.

            “Bad day?”

            Levi shakes his head. “Just… Exhausting. Some brat kept bothering me at a coffee shop and got bitchy when I told him off.”

            Isobel and Farlan look at each other as Levi crawls onto his bed. He can feel them trying to decide whether they need to hunt Eren down, but the tension in their stare seems to last mere seconds before they follow Levi’s lead.

            There is a short period of time wherein they are arranging themselves, today with Isobel and Farlan surrounding Levi.

            Farlan originally positions his arms around Levi’s waist, much like earlier, except the weight of Levi’s body on his arm grows quickly uncomfortable. Levi senses his discomfort, and, before he tells Farlan to make himself more comfortable, Farlan does it himself, readjusting so that his body curls around Levi, chin on top of Levi’s head, one arm draped over Levi’s stomach, his hand wrapped in Levi’s.

            Isobel rests on the other side of Levi, nestled half on top of him, body curled around his and head on his chest. His other arm rests beneath her, reaching to toy with her hair in a way he knows she likes. One of her hands is tucked near her chin, and she absentmindedly draws nonsense shapes and lines on Levi’s chest.

            One of them turns on the TV in his room, some show filling the silence between them comfortably.

            In the beginning stages of their relationship, they couldn’t find a show that balanced entertainment with the mundane, neither drawing too much focus to itself nor proving annoying or invasive. Now, they have an arsenal of shows they only watch in settings like these. Levi finds the familiar voices comforting, though he has little understanding of the plot or characters.

            Sometimes, he pays more attention to the show, but most of the time—such as now—Levi focuses more on the feel of them beside him, the weight of their bodies, the way they smell, a strangely comforting mix of soft laundry, perfume. He suspects Isobel and Farlan took a shower together before this, and he smiles. Regrets that he did not have the chance, but he knows they aren’t as picky.

            Occasionally, Farlan dips to press kisses in Levi’s hair. Sometimes, Levi does the same to Isobel. Levi rubs his thumb on the skin of Farlan’s hand. Someone’s stomach makes noises, but Levi has learned that fussing over them and making dinner happens afterwards, and he does not want to disturb the peace he feels with them.

            Within five minutes, he feels much better than he’s felt all week. Occasionally, he closes his eyes and focuses solely on the feel of his soulmates against him, their warm weight comfortable. He craves this with them, has learned not to be ashamed of wanting closeness.

            Many people value romantic soulmates above platonic, something Levi can’t quite fathom. He isn't surprised that the general population stupidly chooses to emphasize the importance of mates that function almost exclusively to reproduce, their love supposedly unselfish, though only if it culminates in a proper family. All the same, it baffles him, that people could have platonic mates and lack this intimacy. 

            He knows Isobel and Farlan find comfort in each other as much as they do in Levi. That children are the farthest thing from their thoughts, their life plans. To a certain extent, their disinterest aggravates other people, but the social validity of their love ultimately lies in their matching grey marks, the weight of a government-approved ring tattoo on their pinky fingers.

            Their cuddling continues for an hour and a half, only until Levi feels the uncomfortable weight of hunger, until Isobel starts to fidget ever-so-slightly.

            Levi taps Isobel’s head, Farlan’s hand. Even as they all appear happier and calmer, Levi knows they regret breaking apart. He kisses both Isobel and Farlan’s cheeks in thanks, then forces himself out of his bed and goes to the kitchen.

            He begins grabbing necessary ingredients from his fridge and cupboards, beginning a quick but favorite dinner as he hears them shift in his room, use his bathroom and come out, plop themselves on the stools at his island.

            Isobel tells an absurd story about something that happened at her work-best-friend’s brother’s wedding, Farlan’s deep chuckle mixing well with her energetic voice, her enthusiastic gesturing. Levi grins, his back turned to them, focused less on the story itself and more on their mingling voices, the way his chest seems to swell and ache around them.

            Fierce affection overwhelms him, and he grits his teeth as he finishes making them food.

            He hands the plates to them, and they stare warmly up at him as he stands against his side of the island, leaning against it for a minute, happy to simply watch.

            “Thank you, Levi,” Farlan says, and Levi nods.

            Ruffles their hair as he walks around the island with his food and sits on the other side of Isobel.

            “Shut up and eat.” His voice is stupidly rough.

            Isobel pats his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im thirsty af for cuddling if you couldn't tell


	3. someway, someday I know you're gonna see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Levi meet again ft. Hanji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "It's You" by Robert Schwartzman

            Because Levi is fair, he asks Hanji if they want to do something together this week. Not that he cares terribly for their hurt feelings, but he knows they can smell gossip from miles away. He’s not unaware of Isobel and Farlan’s habit of communicating with Hanji frequently—especially when worried about Levi.

             They meet at an outdoor mall. There are enough shops that neither of them feel disgruntled by their surroundings, and the place has been associated with enough calming meet-ups that Levi feels himself relax slightly.

            The ache in his hands, stomach, fades slightly.

            He taps the steering wheel, staring at the mostly full parking lot. A man walks past, and Levi stares at his hands. Bites back annoyance at his desire to see his mates, to draw comfort from them.

            Eren was nothing. Eren was—is—insignificant.

            Eren isn’t his mate.

            Levi thought about Eren’s hair before he fell asleep. The anger in his mouth, eyes. The way he plopped himself at Levi’s table twice like he belonged, like the movies.

            Levi is painfully aware of the fact that, if his life were a movie, Eren would be his mate.

            Levi rolls his eyes. Eren isn’t, and that’s what matters. Levi has an obligation to the people who are his mates. He can’t keep thinking about an invasive brat with a rude tongue and no concept of personal boundaries.

            Levi needs Hanji, needs to be reminded of his obligation, of the depth of his feelings for those he has in his life as mates.

            Reminds himself that they have been put in his life for personal growth and mutual adoration. He is supposed to reach out to them. This is normal—feeling lost.

            Hanji will be ample distraction.

            He slams his door shut, walks to the front of some popular clothing store. Stares at the bright signs announcing sales until Hanji’s profile comes into view.

            “Hey!” Their grin is bright, and Levi feels himself glare less up at them as he returns the greeting, sans enthusiasm.

            Levi finds that, as always, he draws comfort from the warmth of their presence, even as their dialogue is scattered, his portions mostly insulting. They wander aimlessly, stopping at one store, immediately leaving upon finding the smell of the store “overbearingly obnoxious.” Levi snorts, the most he’ll indicate his shared abhorrence.

            Eventually, though, they begin looking down at Levi, mouth all but twitching with barely restrained curiosity. The small talk grows stale; not much has happened in Levi’s life—sans Eren, which he resolutely will not talk about, no point in giving the brat that kind of power over him—and Hanji, though always full of things to blather about that hardly captures Levi’s external interest, seems to lack a certain enthusiasm.

            Risking their mirrored concern, Levi sighs. “You seem less annoying than usual.”

            They smirk. “You’re never this worried about me. Is there something—”

            Levi looks away, only to find himself meeting a familiar gaze.

            Eren.

            Levi breaks the stare first, looking quickly at Hanji, wishing neither of them noticed, but he’d met Eren’s questioning gaze head-on, and Hanji’s attention was already fixed on Levi.

            His first instinct is to duck into the nearest store, tugging Hanji with him. Following it, Levi pulls on their sleeve, careful not to touch their skin. He knows they wouldn’t mind, especially given their closeness and the urgency of the situation for Levi, but Levi knows they aren’t terribly fond of touching people or being touched, and he doesn’t want to disrespect them.

            They don’t interfere with his boundaries either—not yet, of course. They swallow their curiosity and follow. It seems they know better than to tease Levi about his behavior.

            All the same, that curiosity doesn’t go away because Hanji has scraps of manners.

            When Levi pulls them into a shop, ducking to the side and fiddling absently with the first rack of clothing he sees—thankfully just random shirts—Hanji calmly acts as though they too are shopping.

            Their eyes are bright and confused as Levi finally looks up at them. “Want to tell me what all that was about?”

            “That brat’s stalking me.”

            They blink. “Hmm. From what I know, you are conventionally attractive, though your attitude leaves a lot to be desired.”

            “He was fishing for a soulmate, then got angry when I scolded him for it.”

            “Angry?”

            “Apparently, he wasn’t after ‘that.’” Levi pulls away from the rack, staring at the wall, lined with cubbies of folded jeans. There is a window to his right, and he finds himself glancing at it—only to see Eren walk past, staring into the store, lip worried between his teeth.

            He is holding hands with Armin.

            From what Levi could see, their fingers weren’t entwined, conveying implications of friendship rather than a romantic relationship. Levi’s hands twitch, stomach souring.

            His head hurts.

            He looks away, finding Hanji staring at the window, frowning.

            Levi’s heart is racing, his body feels too warm and he hates it. “Hanji.” They’re still staring at the window, even though Eren is gone, and it looks like they’re ready to murder. “Hanji. He just annoyed me at a coffee shop… twice. It’s not that big of a deal.”

            They finally look at Levi, features softening slightly. “You sure?”

            Levi nods.

            “You ready to go? Do you need another minute?”

            “No.”

            He doesn’t want to see Eren, but he knows there’s a good chance of it, that it isn’t impossible to run into him again. Especially considering past incidents. Levi would like to think he’d annoyed Eren enough to guarantee an end to their interactions, but Eren’d been looking at him without a terrible amount of animosity, only intensity, and he’d been staring first.

            Levi caught him looking, but Eren was the one who held on, drove away Levi’s attention and presence.

            Levi bites back the urge to find and punch Eren. He feels suffocated by the lingering attention.

            Hanji’s still looking at him with concern, so Levi looks up, tilts his head at the exit, and they leave.

            And, of course, Eren is right there. Standing with Armin near the entrance of the next store. It’s a shame, because he’s blocking a gelato shop, and Levi finds himself tasting pistachio gelato in his mouth. His teeth feel heavy and sticky.

            Hanji is beside him. Levi rubs his arm, and they gently grab his hand, holding it tight.

            Hand-in-hand, they walk past. Eren isn’t facing them, but Armin is, and he catches Levi’s gaze as his mouth opens. Levi can hear Eren’s voice, not enough to understand what he’s saying, and he’s too distracted by the softness of it to be angry at Hanji for coddling him.

            Hanji adjusts their hands so that their fingers are intertwined. Levi looks up at them, curious and wary, and they smirk—Levi knows they’re up to something.

            They are walking so that Eren will see them if he bothers to look up.

            Levi thinks he hears a muttered “Eren,” but it doesn’t matter when an annoyingly familiar voice shouts “Reading!” and Levi can hear harsh, fast footsteps.

            “Reading?” Hanji’s voice is low, amused.

            “I never gave him my name.” Levi looks up at Hanji. “Oops.”

            “Reading!” Eren runs past them, stops in front of them.

            “Don’t you know better than to bother someone when you’re not wanted, shitstain?”

            “Ouch, _Reading_ , if you were any ruder, it might seem like he isn’t welcome.”

            Eren appears a mix between angry, curious, delighted—Levi gets exhausted trying to place the exact emotion. Eren’s eyes dart to their hands, and he raises his eyebrows.

            “Wow,” Levi replies, voice intentionally flat, “it seems like they think I need to be more obvious. Eren, what do you think?”

            “I think you should stop showing up in places _I_ go to,” Eren replies.

            “Reading, I don’t think Eren knows what the word ‘public’ means.” Hanji’s fingers twitch in Levi’s grasp, and he rubs his thumb in slow circles on their skin.

            “Tch. Seems like Eren can’t read a goddamn thing.”

            Eren snorts. “I would definitely like to know more about Reading, but so far all I’m getting is that he’s a major asshole.”

            “Maybe I wouldn’t seem like an asshole if you didn’t constantly show up when you’re not wanted.”

            Eren’s mouth twitches, and Levi knows he’s said the wrong thing. “So there _are_ times when I’m wanted.”

            Hanji snorts, looks down at Levi contemplatively. “He _is_ somewhat clever, but he’s wrong—you’re constantly an asshole.”

            Levi glares at Hanji playfully. “Say that again, Four-Eyes.”

            “You’re constantly an asshole.”

            Levi considers a childish urge then, under the weight of his gaze, caves. Sticks his tongue out at her. Looks back at Eren.

            “You two seem close,” Eren comments.

            Armin comes to stand beside Eren as Hanji holds up their intertwined hands.

            “I’m really sorry, sir,” Armin says, looking at Levi.

            He cannot tell whether Armin is serious. Levi rolls his eyes. “Your apology means shit. You’re not the one aggravating me.”

            Armin touches Eren’s arm. _They’re mates_ , Levi realizes. Wonders, before he can control himself, what kind of soulmates. “His flirting tactics are … sub-par.”

            Hanji and Levi look at each other.

            “I see,” Levi drawls. “And what’s the shitstain’s opinion?”

            Eren glares at Armin. Armin does not wilt under his attention; rather, he stares directly at Eren with calm control.

            Under different circumstances, Levi could respect or like Armin, but his attachment to Eren taints Levi’s perception.

            “I am attracted to you,” Eren admits after a pause, looking back at Levi.

            Hanji whistles.

            Levi looks Eren up and down, is disappointed when he finds Eren not unattractive. (As though he hasn’t thought about his eyes, as though some part of him wasn’t—isn’t—excited by the prospect of seeing Eren again.) “Why should I care about some pervert’s fascination with me?”

            Armin shrugs. “If you throw him a bone, maybe he’ll go away.”

            Levi stares at Armin until Armin fidgets. “I refuse to throw Eren any bones.”

            Hanji brushes against Levi. “D’you want to continue shopping? We can go whenever you want.”

            Levi shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t tell if Eren has captivated me enough.”

            Eren’s eyes widen.

            Levi smirks. “If he cares so much about my attention, he’s done little to properly catch my eye. A shame, because he almost seems worth something.”

            Eren steps forward. Hanji tilts their body forward. Eren looks at their hands.

            Levi realizes he has still been rubbing his thumb along Hanji’s skin as Eren stares at the movement.

            “Much as I don’t respect sou—”

            “What Eren’s trying to say,” Armin interrupts, “is that he doesn’t know what your relationship is—nor should he, because it isn’t his business—and, despite his forwardness, he likes Re— _you_ too much to jeopardize any of your current relationships.”

            Eren rolls his eyes, but he does not correct Armin.

            Levi looks at Hanji, unwilling to do anything without their consent.

            Hanji shrugs. “Whatever you want to disclose, _sweetheart_.”

            Despite himself, Levi feels a pang of affection for Hanji. He appreciates them too much, knows he wouldn’t be where he is without their support. He looks down at their hands, and shifts them, gently, slowly, disentangling their fingers without completely breaking their connection. Speaking their relationship has always felt wrong, the word _platonic_ heavy on Levi’s tongue, thick and wrong. He is thankful when Armin and Eren relax slightly, clearly understanding the gesture.

            “All the same,” Levi says, “I don’t know if I have room in my life for a shitty-ass brat.”

            “Would you make room?” Eren doesn’t seem embarrassed, or phased, by any of the previous conversation, only somewhat relieved.

            Levi still feels the urge to deck him. Knows he should feel insulted by the disrespectful nonchalance regarding Levi’s availability and relationship with Hanji, but Eren’s returning smirk still holds a note of caution, and his gaze isn’t as playful as he waits for Levi’s response.

            “Why should I waste any of my time on you?” _We aren’t mates_. “You’ve interrupted me three times, and not only have you done so while I was alone, you are currently ruining my time with my mate.”

            “How else was I supposed to snag your attention? Have you seen yourself?”

            “That doesn’t excuse you making him uncomfortable,” Hanji says. “It’s not romantic to invade someone’s space. You should grow up.”

            “Look—I’ll leave you alone, I promise. I’ll leave it up to you to talk to me again. I’ll give you my number, and I won’t ever talk to you if I see you again unless you give me permission. Is that okay?”

            “Tch. It doesn’t sound like I have much of a real choice.”

            Eren does look genuinely upset, finally, and it makes Levi bitterly pleased. He finds Eren’s attention flattering, but it is important for Eren to understand that he’s royally fucked up flirting with Levi.

            Eren tilts his head down a little, and the submission sends a tiny thrill through Levi. “I will leave you alone regardless of whether you want my number.”

            There is a pause, and Armin moves to tug Eren away, but Levi clears his throat, admits that he doesn’t mind having Eren’s number.

            Levi can tell Eren tries to control his excitement at the offer. Armin gives Eren a piece of paper and a pen, and of course Armin hands Eren the materials with no small amount of fond exasperation.

            “I am sorry,” Eren murmurs as he steps close—only to have Hanji stop him with a hand to his chest.

            “I don’t trust you.” Hanji’s gaze is anything but gentle, and Eren wilts slightly, though there is still something fierce and unrepentant in the softening of his features, his stance. He takes a step back. “I don’t like that you’ve made him so uncomfortable.”

            “I’m sorry—I didn’t think—”

            “It’s up to him,” they tilt their head towards Levi, “to decide whether you haven’t fucked yourself over. I don’t care what you think or what you say.”

            Hanji tugs their clasped hands slightly, and Levi follows them, hand brushing Eren’s as he takes the scrap of paper. He likes to think there was an additional warmth in the fleeting contact of their skin, then realizes he’s been rendered utterly pathetic.

            Hanji doesn’t stop walking, pace quickening at an almost uncomfortable rate, until they’ve gone a block and a half away from them.

            “I guess I don’t need to wonder what happened anymore,” Hanji mutters.

            Levi doesn’t say anything.

            “I don’t like him.”

            “He is annoying.”

            Hanji looks at him. “You’re going to talk to him anyway, aren’t you?”

            “We aren’t mates.”

            “Doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

            Levi sighs. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

            Hanji rolls their eyes. “You’re going to talk to him.”

            “… Probably.”

            “You’re an idiot.”

            Shrugs again. “Haven’t decided yet.”

            “If you do, don’t do anything for a few days.”

            “Believe it or not, I do have some common sense.”

            There is a period of silence between them, and when Hanji speaks again, their voice is soft—the kind of soft that makes Levi ache.

            “If he doesn’t believe in soulmates, he’s not going to be good for you.”

            “I wouldn’t prioritize him over my mates.”

            “How would he feel about that? Would he care about what you think? He already seems self-centered.”

            Levi falls silent. He doesn’t want to talk about this, about things he _knows_. Can’t bring himself to tell Hanji that he’s already made his decision, knowing full well that this can only end badly.

            Hanji respects the silence. He can feel the exact moment they realize fully that he knows, that he’s been thinking about this and began weighing his options before the opportunity was properly extended.

            Hanji breaks character to kiss Levi’s forehead when they part an hour later, having spent the rest of the time in silence, Levi alternating between tense and relaxed.

            “I’ll support you regardless, short-stack.”

            Levi allows himself to grin at them, then begins walking back to his vehicle alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a revision workshop tomorrow lololololol so to boost my self-esteem before it gets brutally torn to pieces, comment something if you'd like so i don't feel like a Complete Failure 
> 
> (or point out mistakes/mischaracterization cause these are my bbies and i wouldn't want to misrepresent them)


	4. I know your heart will stay far away from me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk. Levi is Shook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from We'll Be Fine by The Bright Road

            That night, Levi stares at himself in the mirror as he brushes his teeth before bed. Spits out the toothpaste, stares absently at the way the faucet water mixes with it. Grasps the toothbrush too tightly in his hands as he cleans it.

            Bluntly—Levi wants to call Eren.

            Wants to hear his voice, force himself to read more than the words themselves—the tone of his voice, the lilt of his laugh, wants to get this finished, the chase, the conversation. Eren is curious, but he doesn’t even know Levi.

            _That can be changed._ Levi feels the marks on his arms, leaves the bathroom once finished.

            He has saved Eren’s contact information.

            He will not call Eren tonight.

            This is irrefutable; Levi has self-control, and some part of him twists at the thought of reaching out, of asserting interest. He has time to decide, but the uncertainty he feels sets him on edge.

            Sleep that night is, despite his concerns, largely unaltered. He dresses for work, eats breakfast, leaves with fifteen minutes to spare (regarding his personal schedule).

            Levi does not consider Eren during his work, not once. He will not let himself be distracted by a near-stranger, and he is proud of himself for only thinking about him when he considers where to go for lunch.

            Cafés and coffee shops do not get visited—at least, those with business purposes—more than seven times. Not that it doesn’t happen, but Levi won’t visit more if they aren’t worth it.

            Considers Eren’s place. The coffee was fine, food, fine. Not an expansive selection of food, but not so little that they felt lacking. It is not a place that Levi would strongly consider visiting again, nor is it unremarkable enough to forget.

            Eren is a brief problem, but.

            At the end of the day, all Levi has regarding Eren’s respect and personal space is his word. This is not difficult when their lives don’t intersect naturally.

            Levi wants to see if Eren will keep his word. Moving forward with him—assuming that’ll happen—depends on this confirmation of restraint. Levi must know he has control, that Eren is fully willing to step back and let Levi breathe on his own.

            Looks out the window, sun cheerfully shining, sky a crisp blue. Stands and gathers his things.

            His phone feels abnormally heavy in his pocket. Imaginary weight, but it bleeds into his fingertips—they feel dull, warm and thick.

~~~

            The shop is less full than normal. Levi can feel the space of the shop, the way the tables, the brick walls, seem to speak for themselves. Objectively, Levi has already observed the setting, immediately taking note of it on the first visit, but it never felt personally connected to him.

            Maybe he’s getting sick; maybe his hunger is deluding his thoughts.

            The freedom to choose a seat, that’s what’s getting to Levi’s insipid sentimentality. He eyes a brown couch that looks soft in that public-couch way, the kind that indicates comfort with the added glaze of shared filth.

            No couch.

            Levi ends up sitting in the same spot, the same table next to the window, warm cup of Jasmine tea in his hands.

            Realizes, too late, that he has brought nothing besides his phone.

            His stomach growls mournfully. The croissant before him smells warm, buttery. The taste of it and the tea in his mouth are not unpleasant, the combined softness like the unwilling comfort of well-worn gloves.

            Looks up as he absentmindedly tears his croissant into smaller pieces. Waits, watches—Eren is not here yet, and he almost considers texting him to come, but then the door opens, and that familiar, irritating warmth of his smile, his quick gaze, fills the shop.

            Eren’s eyes meet Levi’s, and his breath catches—he’s sure the brat will break his promise. Instead, Eren looks away first, goes through the steps of ordering, waiting, selecting a seat.

            For the first time, Eren looks uncertain, holding the drink in his hands, standing somewhere between rudely in the middle of the near-empty—Levi finds himself gazing, unabashedly. Wonders whether he breaks protocol in his attention, then brushes the notion aside. Eren must give Levi space, but that doesn’t mean Levi is obligated to anything.

            Eren’s pause lasts for a minute, but it stretches uncomfortably. The emptiness unnerves him. It seems that Eren is a creature of habit; the table Levi has caught him at is open, but Eren doesn’t even seem to consider it.

            Is that a designated spot for him and Armin? Or was it a choice made reluctantly, due to previous crowds? Does Eren have a spot that he occupies just for himself, or does he come here alone so infrequently that he doesn’t know how or where to sit alone?

            Levi wants to laugh at him, just a little. Gives him credit—during the whole pause, Eren doesn’t even look over in Levi’s direction. Makes no indication of desiring Levi’s presence.

            The stare shared earlier still has Levi’s skin burning. His hands feel useless, even as Eren plays off the brief interaction like an accident between strangers, and Levi wonders if that has anything to do with the way his heart still beats with a twinge.

            His phone feels heavy in his hands.

            Stares at Eren, sitting on the couch (of course), then at the half-empty mug in his hands, then back up—his phone buzzes, but it’s only Hanji sending him a link to an article.

            **Hanji** : Told you my son is better than yours!

            Levi rolls his eyes, scans the article written by some random Buzzfeed employee yammering about Hanji’s favorite character incorrectly.

            **Levi** : This is a biased shitfest and you know it.

            **Hanji** : You’re a biased shitfest

            Levi huffs a half-laugh.

            **Levi** : Shouldn’t you be working?

            **Hanji** : Maybe you should take the stick out of your ass before judging me L

            **Levi** : The fuck

            **Hanji** : :P

            Levi rolls his eyes and sets his phone down, then remembers their tendency to send multiple texts in a row, seemingly unable to send a text with one emoji by itself (Levi would settle for one massive paragraph of emojis at this point, so deep and painful is his desperation), so he unlocks it, mutes their conversation.

            Looks up, only to meet Eren’s gaze. Realizes after Eren’s eyes shift from soft warmth to panic that Levi has been grinning, that Eren has been staring at him grinning like it was something beautiful.

            It isn’t a breach of Levi’s space, not really, but the sheer panic on Eren’s face flatters Levi. He is taking this seriously, and Levi feels comfortable, suddenly. Feels his face shift as he forces the smile away.

            Out of respect, Levi forces himself to stare at anything but Eren for the rest of his break, though his gaze lingers for a few minutes after his tea is gone. He throws away a napkin, puts the empty dishes, leaves.

            When he gets back to work, he pulls out his phone, feeling better than he has all day.

            Decides the brat deserves something of a reward, or, at least, that’s how Levi justifies his actions as he shakily composes a new text, the first in his conversation with **Eren (Pervert)**.

            **Levi** : Good job.

            He has fifty-three new messages from Hanji.

~~~

            When Levi returns to his apartment, he is exhausted, feels sweat on his skin and cringes. He eats dinner quickly, daydreaming about taking a bath. Fifteen minutes after finishing his meal, Levi is in the shower, washing the sweat from his body.

            Exits, cleans the bathtub. Waits a few minutes before filling it with water.

            Eren has not messaged him back, which makes sense, given that Levi texted him randomly without identifying himself. All the same, the lack of response feels odd.

            Sinks into the warm water, tensing, shifting until he is comfortably half-submerged. His bath salts—lavender, this time—make the water slightly murky, and he lets himself sink a little lower, content.

            He stares at nothing, dragging his fingertips along the edge of the bathtub, skimming the surface of the water. Occasionally, feels his skin, warm and soft-sturdy, the hairs on his arms.

            Something disrupts his thoughtless touches, perhaps the indistinct yet precise moment wherein warm bathwater becomes lukewarm. It does not feel unpleasant, nor is it immediately desirable to exit—he stares at the rippling water, his knees. Huffs.

            He can’t text Eren, not like this, but he could call him…

            The question becomes whether it is too soon, whether Eren has earned a quick response. Though his earlier text definitely indicated more positive than negative emotions, it does not guarantee Eren’s entrance in Levi’s life. A call will.

            Levi sighs and presses his palms to his eyes.

            He wants to push it off, but denying himself will do little good. He wants to talk to Eren, and unless something serious happens, not much will change that. For now, Eren has proved himself able—Levi decides he wants to know more about him.

            Reaching for a towel, he dries off his right hand, reaches for his phone. Calls Eren, putting him on speaker, placing it on the bathtub table hovering above his body.

            Levi’s heart is racing. He sighs as he sinks down in the water, thankful for the cooler temperature. He doesn’t think he could’ve handled it earlier, when the water was pleasantly scalding.

            “Hello?”

            Eren’s voice sounds too nice, deep and rich, warm, welcoming, _too nice_. “Hello,” Levi answers, proud of his steady voice despite his dry mouth.  
            “Reading?” Eren sounds much happier. Hopeful.

            “Gonna stop calling me that?”

            “Gonna give me a name?”

            Levi hums, grins. Concedes that Eren doesn’t have much else to call him, though that doesn’t mean Levi appreciates the choice in nickname. “Don’t think you’ve reached that level yet.”

            Eren snorts. “What, acquaintance level?”

            “Something like that.”  

            It’s Eren’s turn to hum into the phone, and Levi closes his eyes. Doesn’t open them as Eren replies. “Still strangers?”

            “Something like that.”

            He can hear the grin in Eren’s voice. “If you say that one more time, I think I’ll have to call you that instead.”

            “That’s a shame.”

            “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d take this as an opportunity to show me your wit with clever nicknames, not this plagiarism shitfest.”

            Eren laughs. “Couldn’t that come across cheesy? Witty nicknames?”

            “If you managed to avoid that, you’d be worth my time.”

            “If this isn’t worth your time now, why are you calling?”

            Levi hesitates, decides against lying. Opens his eyes, stares at his hands. “Bored in my bathtub.”

            “Didn’t think this was gonna be _that_ kind of call. At least, not yet.”

            “I’d deck you if you were here right now.”

            “Kinky.”

            Levi rolls his eyes. Fucking brat. “Tch.”

            “What, that’s not your thing?”

            “Decking people during sex?”

            Eren sighs, obviously annoyed with Levi’s intentionally obtuse comments. It makes Levi pleased, and he sinks under the water, just enough so that the surface is against his nose, his grin underwater. “No,” Eren replies, his voice strangely shy. “That’s not what I meant.”

            “I called to get to know you, not dish my kinks out like drunk sixteen-year-olds at a slumber party.”

            There’s a pause, and Levi drags his face out of the water. Wonders if he said something wrong, but his throat feels scratchy and his heart beats uncomfortably fast.

            When Eren replies, his voice hasn’t lost the softness from before. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d reach out to me, so this is… surprising. In a good way! But I didn’t…. I wasn’t expecting anything. I don’t know what to do.”

            Levi bites his lip, tries to not be a dick in response. Fails, somewhat. “So, you don’t show interest in men like that all the time? That’s a little reassuring.”

            “This is gonna sound cheesy…”

            “Fuck.”

            “It’s true though! You… I’ve never been attracted to someone the way I am with you. I was curious, and I wanted to explore it.”

            Levi nods. An exploration—Eren is merely toying with his attraction to Levi, seeing what happens. Probably doesn’t mean to stay long, only until his curiosity is satisfied. Levi taps the edge of the bathtub. This won’t last long, especially once Eren gets to know Levi.

            There’s no point in letting him in, Levi realizes, and he clenches his teeth.

            “You there?”

            “How was your day?”

            “… It was alright?”

            “Just alright?”

            “I’m working on a paper—don’t ask, I don’t want to think about it—that’s taking up all of my free time. ‘Alright’ is the best it’ll get right now. What about you?”

            “Me?”

            “Your day?”

            “It was fine.”

            Eren snorts. “You can’t chastise me for being vague then do it yourself.”

            “Sure I can,” Levi replies, voice smooth and steady.

            Eren makes a dissatisfied noise. Levi wonders what the point of the call is anymore. He wanted to get to know Eren, but that seems like an intangible goal, one he lacks the ability to fulfil.

            Eren seems to know better than to pout, though, because, instead, he launches into a story about how he learned the hard way not to write a paper drunk, and Levi finds himself, despite feeling a measure of disgust for his lackluster common sense capabilities, amused. Unsurprisingly, Eren seems determined about most things he cares about in his life, even if he has a piss-poor way of showing it.

            Levi finds himself drifting, paying attention less to Eren’s words and more his voice, the way it fluctuates, every emotion vibrant, distinct. _Too nice_ , even as Levi can sense his nervousness, the way he seems preoccupied with filling Levi’s verbal absence with little stories, trite things about his life that seem both inconsequential and incandescent. Levi wonders if Eren is intentional in his blathering, allowing Levi to see his personality without any real personal details.

            Levi doesn’t mind that the conversation is one-sided, but it seems to bother Eren, his stories losing their enthusiasm, his voice falling between cracks. Levi frowns, but doesn’t know how to bring it back, so he stays silent.

            “I’m not talking too much, am I?”

            “No,” Levi replies, then clears his throat, voice slightly awkward from disuse. “No.”

            “Good,” and there’s that smile in Eren’s voice, and Levi’s chest feels warm.

            Realizes: the water is cold.

            “Do I need to let you go?”

            Levi coughs, doesn’t want to say yes, but, “I’m freezing my balls off.”

            “Wh-oh, right, bath.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Did we talk for that long?”

            Levi checks his phone, sees that two and a half hours have passed. “Oh. Guess we did.”

            “This was nice.”

            Levi blinks. “It was?”

            “Yeah.” That smile-warmth again—Levi wants to hate it. “I can let you go, though. Um! Before I do—should… I will give you your space in public until you change your mind.”

            “Thank you.”

            “No problem. I’ll just admire your beauty from afar, I guess.”

            “I have half a mind to hang up on you right now.”

            Eren laughs, giddy for some godforsaken reason. “No! No! Dooon’t! I was just complimenting you!”

            “You can do better. That sounded constipated as fuck.”

            “Tsk. Someone’s picky.”

            “Damn right.”

            “I like that,” smile-warmth, “I enjoy challenges.”

            “I’ve been told I’m challenging.”

            “You’d be worth the challenge.” Before Levi can scold him again for being cheesy, Eren speaks again. “Goodnight, Blossom Butt.”

            Levi blinks, frowns, confused and annoyed and disgusted and amused, mind largely stuck on a loop of _what the fuck_. Bewildered, his body decides to make a half-strangled inhuman sound that makes his mouth feel awkward.

            Eren laughs, properly, like he can’t stop, but it sounds more like Levi told him a joke than directly laughing at Levi. He says goodnight again, without the nickname, half-laughing, half-begging Levi not to murder him.

            Levi hangs up, tries not to grin at his phone, despite knowing he should—and does, definitely, definitely does—feel insulted by the nickname. Touches the marks on his arms absently as he stares at the blank screen.

            He’s on the edge of melancholy when his phone buzzes, a new text notification.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : I’m assuming this is Reading :P

            **Levi** : That is a good assumption.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : oh god you use periods end me

            Levi rolls his eyes.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : anyways technically I cheated again b u t I’m not used to giving people nicknames and actually wanting them to still like me

            **Eren (Pervert)** : <http://www.cutepetname.com/cute-nicknames/>

            **Eren (Pervert)** : be thankful I didn’t call you big daddy

            **Levi** : Call me that and you’re dead.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : no promises……. :D goodnight for real this time

            **Eren (Pervert)** : thank you for calling :*

            **Levi** : Goodnight.

            He almost sets his phone down and waits for the screen to dim on its own, but he decides against it in favor of throwing Eren a bone.

            **Levi** : I’m glad I called.

            Now he can set the phone down, push the table away. Pull his legs close and rests his chin on his knees, staring absently at the water, the white tub, his skin, covered in goosebumps. He doesn’t want to move or think, just steep in the way his heart has finally fallen into its normal pace, the way he feels calm, sated. Not exhausted—he is moderately surprised to find that, though he subconsciously anticipated it, the call was not taxing—not quite anything.

            Just a man in a cold bath, lips pressed against knees. Fingertips wrinkled but warm, arms wrapped tight around legs. The lights, soft, water silk against his skin.

            His face like embers, softly burning, flicker-fading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end nickname is, in fact, from the website. apparently i am Shit with on-the-spot nicknames. my reaction was basically Eren's when i saw the one he uses in the call; i laughed so hard i was afraid my suite-mates would hear me and covered my mouth. it was too perfect not to use
> 
> **edit** like a goddamn moron i had eren call levi his name twice, but i fixed it; to clarify, eren doesn't know yet i just Cannot Function Properly Ever


	5. poison hidden underneath my skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's finals week and here i am, writing about these dorks. 
> 
> communication is key, y'all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Sirens by Soren Bryce

A week and a half passes.

            Levi does not reach out to Eren.

            Not for lack of interest necessarily—nor out of direct apprehension, but some bizarre mix. Some nights, he wills himself away from the phone; other nights, Eren does not so much as enter his thoughts.

            Levi stays up late one night finishing a novel, another night paperwork. Some nights he goes to sleep on time, others earlier. He does not discern an obvious catalyst, except the fact that Eren hasn’t reached out at all makes Levi’s fingernails ache, his teeth heavy.

            He knows it’s been a week and a half tonight because he has the conversation open in front of him, can see the date if he scrolls up a little. Wonders absently what this means. Wonders what will happen if he ghosts on Eren, but that idea is hardly appealing.

            _What’s the point? He can’t give me anything I don’t already have._

But Eren thinks of them as an experiment (he must, must must must, what else does wanting to "explore" someone mean, what else could he possibly want with someone like Levi)—there’s no pressure here.

            Levi doesn’t have to do anything large, doesn’t have to commit, even. There’s no point in worrying, no point in rushing. If it comes to contact, Levi can have a quick fuck—or several—and part ways before things get awkward. If it doesn’t—well, what’s the point, then? He has other, proper, mates for his needs, doesn’t he?

            Levi isn’t a substitute. He’s just… there.

            Levi’s okay with that—really, he is.

            … But what does one do with a horny, younger man clearly just looking for a piece of ass? What obligation does Levi have?

            All of this involves too much communication, and Levi wonders if it would be worth the fuss. Eren does have pretty eyes, and his voice…

            Isobel and Farlan tried to be subtle when they found Levi too tense, distracted, during their latest TV night, though they refrained from commenting because Levi refused to bring it up. All the same, Hanji texted telling him to _go for it_ , because _Levi Ackerman doesn’t half-ass things_ , which isn’t wrong, even if they found interacting with Eren undesirable.

            And some part of Levi—however miniscule—wants Eren. Eren clearly had interest in Levi. It isn’t bad if they indulge the other, mutually benefit from an experimental fling. Hell, Levi had plenty of those when he was younger.

            Still, he finds himself wavering, unable to reach out. Can’t quite bring himself to figure out what to say to capture his interest again. Knows he’s probably lost it, even though he feels like he’s been paused, waiting for Eren.

            He waits another night before he opens their conversation with the intention of continuing it. He appreciates the ability to hide himself better in texts, pretend he’s more composed than he really is, but he detests how easy it is for the other person to lie.

            **Levi** : Got any other clever nicknames for me, or are you still sorely lacking?

            It’s a good seven minutes—Levi’s checked—before he sees Eren typing.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : didn’t realize I was supposed to spend all of my time pining over you

            **Levi** : Wasn’t expecting that.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : pining or my response?

            **Levi** : Pining.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : you’d be lucky—I’ve been told im an excellent piner

            **Levi** : Don’t doubt that.

            No one says anything for a minute, and Levi realizes a week of silence might not have been a good idea. He’ll have to be a little vulnerable if he wants to pull Eren back into orbit.

            **Levi** : Sorry. Busy week. Didn’t mean to neglect you.

            It’s another minute before Eren begins replying.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : it’s alright. how was your week? want to talk about it?

            **Levi** : Not really. Work is work. Mostly just tired. You? How was your week?

            **Eren (Pervert)** : boring w/out your cheery face at the café

            Levi chuckles, still wary, still a little curious—Eren’s tone shifted to flirty too quickly. Decides he ought to be blunt, get the miscommunication and ambiguity out of the way.

            **Levi** : Oh?

            Eventually. He’ll get there.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : mhm

            **Levi** : What would you have done if I’d been there?

            **Eren (Pervert)** : …why are you making such a big deal out of testing my self-control when you’re just gonna ignore me anyways?

            Levi blinks. He hadn’t asked the question to test him, though he understands Eren’s confusion. Before he can decide what to say next, Eren is calling him, and Levi’s heart crawls into his throat and his hands are shaking slightly and his eyes feel funny, almost painful but he swipes anyways and he should’ve known, should’ve really really really known—

            “I’m really not that bad of a person that you’d have to keep asking me over and over and over again about how I’ll treat you in public. If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t talk to me, but tell me or don’t expect me to jump like a dog when you ignore me completely.”

            Levi takes a deep breath, bites back responsive anger. “I wasn’t asking to test you.”

            It’s Eren’s turn to pause, take a deep breath. “You were flirting?”

            “Trying to, yeah.”

            “Fuck… I hate texting you.”

            Levi walks over to his fridge, focuses on the cool metal beneath the palm of his hand. “You don’t have to talk to me if it’s that unbearable.”

            Eren sighs. “It’s not that—I don’t know how to read you.”

            “Maybe we’re making this a lot more complicated than it needs to be.”

            “Maybe. I’ve been told I’m too impulsive for my own good.”

            Levi snorts. “Sounds about right. People just call me an ass.”

            “Sounds about right,” Eren parrots, though his voice feels looser than before.

            Levi realizes he opened the fridge during the exchange and stared blankly at the contents for no reason. He clears his throat, closes the door. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”

            “Maybe.”

            “Is this worth salvaging, or should we just stop?”

            “Given how many times we’ve run into each other, I feel like stopping isn’t an option.”

            Levi snorts. “How are you skeptical of soulmates when you can believe that kind of bullshit?”

            “I’m not…”

            Levi nods, the back of his head brushing the fridge. “Mhm. You are. I don’t care,” the words feel sour on his lips, “but you’ve made it abundantly clear; don’t play coy now.”

            “There’s a difference between people being specifically made incomplete without another person, or people, and noticing a reoccurring coincidence.”

            “Aren’t they similar though?” Levi slides down the fridge, sits on the floor, leaning against it. Feels the cool wood floor beneath his legs. “Either way, you’re trusting that the universe or something just wants you to meet someone.”

            “It’s different. There’s a difference between people being good for each other and people being necessary for validating your identity.”

            “And you’d think we’d fall into the former?”

            Eren is quiet, and Levi wonders, briefly, if he overstepped his bounds. “…Yes.”  

            “And you still think that?”

            “Thinking it and it actually happening are two different things.” Levi thinks he hears Eren shift, the sound of rustling sheets startling. He remembers, fleetingly, when a stranger caught him disassociating and tried, unsuccessfully, to ground him.

            “I see.” Eren wants Levi to move forward. “That might be easier done if we established what this fuckshow is trying to accomplish.”

            Eren laughs. “Well, I’d like to take you on a date sometime, probably.”

            Levi gets off the floor, runs his free hand through his hair. There’s a pounding headache distracting him from focusing entirely on Eren, possibly playing a part in his lackluster response: “oh.”

            “I’m not going to ask you out of course, not yet,” Eren continues smoothly, as though Levi hadn’t even tried to respond. “I’ll wait for you, since you’ve made it abundantly clear that’s what you would like.”

            “You could have reached out sooner.” _I texted you to signal that._ “When you got my number, you got the right to text me.”

            Eren hesitates, and Levi thinks he hears him take a deep breath. Then, a sigh. At this point, Levi can’t tell who does it, only that there seems to be an air of mutual disappointed understanding. “It helps to be clear about these things,” Eren finally says, an underlying tightness to his voice. “For future reference. I take it you don’t have much experience with this kind of thing, do you?”

            “You’re right. In the past, my ‘experiments’ and I made plans in person.” _And it didn’t begin with either party forcing themselves on the other. And we all knew that it was just practice, just letting off steam. That our soulmates would arrive in time._

Eren ignores his tone with palpable restraint. Levi actively goads him, but Eren won’t bite and the conversation feels a little like it’s tilting. It’s awkward, painfully awkward. Levi doesn’t know what the point is, carrying on. They can’t stop butting heads.

            _If he were my soulmate, I’d grit my teeth and push through._

Eren’s been talking, but Levi hasn’t heard anything beyond his voice.

            “What?”

            Eren sighs. “Were you thinking?”

            _I’m always thinking,_ Levi mentally replies. He clenches the edge of the countertop. “Yeah.”

            “About this?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Eloquent.”

            “What were you saying?”

            “You’re making this a big deal for someone who doesn’t believe we are soulmates.”

            “We aren’t.”

            “I know,” Eren replies, and his voice is soft, reverent. “But that doesn’t matter.”

            “I know it doesn’t. It’d only matter if this got serious.” It matters, yes, but everyone expects romantic soulmates to come before everything but their platonic counterparts. When you find your romantic soulmate, you are expected to neglect unimportant social connections, your non-mate friends with no professional or academic ties to you, regardless of everything. Levi would be expected to give up Eren in every and any capacity, even if they’d only just been friends.

            Romance, soulmate and non-soulmate alike, is supposed to be smooth, quick. For mates, commitment early, the deeper emotional connections trusted to develop over time afterwards. For non-mates, quick is all you have, no certainty.

            “And if it does?”

            Levi swallows. “Would you end it if your mate came along?”

            There is no hesitation between Levi’s question and Eren’s answer, no hesitation in his voice. “No. Not if I was in love with you, and if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t just leave.”

            Levi hums.

            “You’d leave me though, wouldn’t you?”

            “Yes.” Levi’s head hurts. “I would.”

            Levi imagines Eren nods slowly at his words, looks down at his knees or the floor, or maybe he looks up at the ceiling and maybe his throat feels a little funny.

            “Still want to continue?”

            Eren sighs. “Yes,” he says after a beat, confident. “I want to know you.”

            Oh. “I’d… like to know you too.”

            Eren’s voice is properly warm-happy for the first time during this call. “That’s reassuring.”

            Levi allows himself to grin, then clears his throat. “So. We’re going to try to date, then?”

            “Yes.”

            “Exclusively?”

            “I’d like to.”

            Levi hums. “I’d like to too.”

            “Convenient.”

            Levi snorts.

            “Can I call you my boyfriend?”

            “Tch. After a few dates, maybe,” Levi replies. “Are we going to fuck too, or is that off the table?”

            Eren chuckles, and Levi tenses. “I don’t know,” Levi can hear sheets rustling again, “would you be able to leave me after that?”

            Levi takes a second to reply. “Depends on how good of a job you’d do.”

            It seems Eren needs a minute too, because Levi is left alone with the sound of his racing heart and the sensation of fire-warmth crawling over his skin. He realizes, fleetingly, that Eren hadn't expected Levi to tease back. Realizes that Eren is, probably, hopefully, disoriented and embarrassed-flushed. Levi bites his lip, staring blankly at a box of Jasmine tea. Remembers he was going to make himself some earlier, before he thought about Eren’s eyes, voice.

            “Can I reach out to you now?”

            “Yes.”

            “I’d like to plan our first date, if you’re okay with that.”

            Levi doesn’t mind, says as much, and senses the conversation is about to end. He is tired, in a pleasant way. Restrains a yawn, but the beginnings of it hitch his voice.

            “Thank you.” A beat. “I can let you go.”

            “Alright.”

            “Don’t wait that long to reach out to me again.”

            _That doesn’t sound right._ “Hm. I’ll do my best.”

            “Okay.” Smile-warmth, and Levi knows he means it. “Goodnight Blossom Butt.”

            “Goodnight, Eren.”

            Levi holds the box of tea for a minute before making himself a cup. Holds the steaming mug between his hands, pressing as much of his fingers, palms into the scalding surface as he can. Stares at the surface, the way the heat plays with his nose (the way the heat lingers in his stomach long after their conversation), and he feels a little like he’s sinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagine eren dancing angrily to cooler than me when he thinks he's alone and levi catches him


	6. crawled from my bed, to collect the thoughts that'd fallen from my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter for longer wait. in which the story becomes even more self-indulgent. thank you for your patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Good Morning, Hypocrite by Electric President
> 
> this has [fanart](https://knightlysoulsnatcher.tumblr.com/post/160502199539/hey-u-i-hope-this-works-and-tumblr-doesnt-screw) because hunk is a bae, and it's utterly beautiful

            Isobel and Farlan invite Levi to dinner four days later.

            Or: Levi falls asleep to thoughts of Eren—a horrifyingly regular occurrence—and wakes up to a text from Isobel, demanding his presence.  

            Hanji is also invited, Levi discovers, which is hardly unusual. Despite this, he finds himself mildly paranoid, worried his platonic mates will swoop in and coerce him into talking about Eren properly. Normally, this kind of dinner would excite Levi, and though it would be untrue to say he isn’t excited at all, his issue with Eren makes him wary.

            He doesn’t know what to make of it, Eren, their relationship. Levi supposes he’d say they were tentatively dating now, but at the end of the day, what that really _means_ is unclear. More accurately, he doesn’t know where that ought to stand with his proper mates. Doesn’t want reminders of their importance over Eren, even as their superiority is valid, proper.

            Perhaps it isn’t even worthy of discussion. It isn’t permanent; Eren is hardly permanent. Telling them feels like finalizing something non-consensually, yet withholding it from them seems like an insult.

            Nothing has happened yet, so Levi decides this is too much to process right now. The most him and Eren have done is text, the past few days filled with prior, mundane tasks. They’ve gotten to know each other, somewhat, or, in the very least, they’ve started the process. Levi is surprised at how slowly it progresses, at how every text tastes like lukewarm milk. He finds himself wanting better communication but, ironically, unable to tell him.

            There is something comforting about Eren, though. Brash, emotional Eren, warm and passionate, though his texts feel… distant, at times. If Levi hadn’t caught glimpses of his determination, his liveliness, he would think Eren almost dull.

            Levi isn’t sure when Eren went from a nuisance to this tolerable, intriguing person, but he isn’t entirely willing to regret letting Eren earn a place in his life.

            Some part of him cannot believe that this is real, that he is sitting at his kitchen table, halfheartedly chewing a piece of French toast while obsessing over a situation that hasn’t gained any emotional validity.

            Levi allows himself a moment of self-pity for stooping so low before he decides to stop thinking about Eren.

~~~

            **Eren (Pervert)** : what are you doing later?

            Levi doesn’t look at the text for a few minutes, seeing his contact name flash across the screen, accompanied by mild, generalized panic. If Levi were an immature, irrational child, he would be upset that mild infatuation didn’t cure his anxiety, but he’s an adult, so he is upset quietly.

            Before Levi can open the conversation properly, he sees another notification. Impulsively taps it, then blinks.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : is there any way I can see you in person without it being our First Official Date?

            Levi blinks again. He is uncomfortably aware of his eyes, the way they ache. Finds himself feeling like reheated tea, steam billowing from his surface to distract from the underlying lukewarm staleness.

            He doesn’t want to get to know Eren first through grandiose dates. Not that he isn’t curious about Eren’s plans for a proper date, but Levi finds himself understanding the sentiment in Eren’s text. Craves the same bluntness of an informal meeting, but there’s something sour about Eren’s spontaneous proposition, something that makes Levi hesitate.

            **Levi** : Yes.

            **Levi** : Tonight might not be the best, though.

            **Eren (Pervert)** : if tonight is bad that’s fine, I know this is short notice

            Levi’s thumbs hover over the screen.

            He could easily refuse. His head throbs at the thought of another social event, even an informal one with Eren, and what does that mean, now?

            They’re something that is supposed to become romantic, but Levi doesn’t know if this is the best step.

            Then again, when else would Levi get an opportunity to see Eren without obligatory public and social restraints?

            What is Eren like in the softness of his own home?

            Would Levi have a place in that stillness?

            **Levi** : I’m having dinner with some friends in an hour or two. What did you have in mind?

            **Eren (Pervert)** : nothing major, just chilling

            Levi sighs. Knows what “chilling” _could_ mean, wants, suddenly, to ask what brought this up, why now, why tonight, why “chilling,” as though Levi doesn’t know the implications. Considers invading Eren’s space, but if it’s important, Levi figures Eren will tell him on his own. Tries to trust him enough to know when to communicate.

            (Should have known that his curiosity would be met with teenage hormones. Finds himself disappointed.)

            Figures he should probably change Eren’s name in his phone, if he is going to be near Eren tonight, if he is willing to be vulnerable. Supposes, absently, that Eren can’t really be considered the only pervert in their relationship anymore, though the thought makes Levi grit his teeth.  

            **Levi** : I don’t know when the dinner will be over, but if you’re willing to wait, I could come over afterwards.

            He pauses before sending. Adds “If you want.” His thumbs shake slightly, and he feels stupid and childish, offering his time late at night, impulsively, the day of the request. Hopes despite himself that Eren declines.

            Levi sets his phone on his desk, stands and walks away. Looks out the window, stares at the trees shaking in the wind, the cloudy grey-bright sky, sidewalk like smooth custard. Hears his phone vibrate, forces himself to stand still.

            Takes a deep breath. Returns, holds his phone.

            **Eren** : i can wait. thank you

            A sigh is trapped around Levi’s tongue, and he can’t unwrap it, so he chokes on empty silence.

            **Levi** : Just text me your address, and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.

            **Eren** : Kk :)

            **Levi** : Make sure your apartment is clean.

            **Eren** : will do

            Levi is somewhat relieved that Eren didn’t get overtly offended or ask questions. Though, Eren isn’t really in a place where he has any right to feel offended when Levi is giving up his time on short notice. Regardless, he appreciates that Eren seems to take him in stride.

            He is somewhat surprised that he is, despite everything and only in some small part of his mind, genuinely excited to see Eren. Hopes he can make it over, hopes Eren doesn’t alter their plans.

            Decides that, regardless of the outcome, he did not make the wrong decision.

~~~

            Dinner is at Isobel and Farlan’s house, and Levi arrives just as Hanji laughs uproariously, almost falling off a barstool. Isobel giggles at them, tossing a greeting at Levi when she can breathe properly. Farlan greets Levi with a kiss on the cheek. Levi mimics the gesture, pulling him in for a half hug.

            Farlan returns to the kitchen, Levi following, stopping at the island where Hanji sits. They grin at him as he passes and casually greets them.

            Isobel pulls Levi in for a full hug, and he reciprocates, tossing a glare at Hanji, their smirk grotesquely self-satisfied. They’re always amused when Levi shows physical affection, as though each time is his first. He tugs their ponytail with gentile firmness as he sits beside them.

            Whatever Isobel and Hanji were laughing about earlier vanishes, comfortable pleasantries and familiar silence settling between them like sand.

            “Has that Eren kid bothered you since I last saw him?”

            Levi blinks, looks at Hanji, their question uncomfortably invasive as the four of them move from the kitchen to the dining room, each carrying a plate or two of food. Steam caresses Levi’s cheeks, nose, lips, the humid warmth stifling.  

            “Eren? Who’s that?”

            Farlan looks down at Isobel. Shrugs. Fiddles with the silverware he arranged.

            Levi glares at Hanji, the sharpness in his voice directed towards the topic of conversation, though his eyes blaze into theirs, and his hands twitch against his sides. Should’ve known better, this being the first time since the start of the incident that the four of them are together for proper conversation. “He hasn’t bothered me, no.”

            “Good.” Hanji nods.

            He looks away. Knows that his lie would collapse if only they tried hard enough; however, they stand down, act as though Levi’s careful word choice isn’t pathetically obvious.

            Isobel and Farlan exchange confused glances, and everyone can feel Isobel lean forward, purse her lips, demands for information coating her teeth, tongue.

            They sit together at the table, the sounds of chairs scraping the floor an unwelcome addition to the awkward atmosphere.

            He hates the way they surreptitiously stare at him, the way their concern etches different quirks in their features, the way he can feel them all hung suspended. Wonders, absently, when their own personal lives became so pathetically boring that his demanded their undivided attention.

            Levi sighs. “Just this kid that annoyed me a few times at a shop. Hanji ran into him the other day.”

            “He seemed quite invested in our Levi.”

            “Oh?” Farlan’s mouth twitches.

            “It’s almost fascinating; I’ve never met someone in real life that was so unashamed about being skeptical of soulmates. Kept blurting it out. I wonder how different his responses would’ve been if his friend hadn’t intervened at all…”

            Isobel bangs her fist against the table. “That doesn’t matter! He doesn’t care about mates?! Someone like that doesn’t stand a chance with our Levi.”

            “I can’t imagine _any_ mates caring much for Eren either,” Farlan murmurs as he raises his water glass to his lips.

            Hanji snorts. “He hardly seemed worthy of our Levi’s attention.”

            “Tch. I can take care of myself.” They all turn to look at him, and he meets their sudden attention without hesitation or reservation, staring Hanji down.

            “No one’s saying you can’t, cupcake.”

            “We know you know best for yourself!” Isobel’s eyes shine with unabashed adoration, pride. Levi never feels like he deserves it, though he refuses to dwell on his unease long.

            Tilts his head, glances at Farlan. Farlan nods agreeably.

            “At any rate, Levi dragged me into three completely unnecessary stores that day, and they all had the most awful—”

            Levi tunes them out, content to watch their exuberance as he eats, appreciate the way Isobel submerges herself in Hanji’s enthusiastic descriptions. Farlan seems uncharacteristically controlled tonight, his gaze meeting Levi’s occasionally, and it wouldn’t matter terribly, except Farlan’s eyes are too distant. His responses are enough to suggest normalcy, but the placid veneer does little to conceal his contemplative pauses, too thoughtful for the conversations at hand.

            True to Levi’s senses, Farlan pulls him aside when Hanji leaves to get a piece of cake from the fridge, Isobel twiddling on her phone at the table.

            “Hanji’s already told us about Eren,” Farlan confesses when they’re in the living room, sitting on the couch.

            “I figured. Shitstain wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t spew garbage about me to you.” He crosses his arms.

            “Besides their fascination with someone pestering you so determinedly, they seem to be largely concerned with how someone like that could be attracted to someone like you. While you two would be interesting, they don’t want someone so… apathetic and ill-suited to you wasting your time.”

            Levi blinks at Farlan. Wants to respond but doesn’t know how, doesn’t expect Hanji’s aversions to hold such depth. Any other situation, he knows as much as Farlan does that Hanji would wait and watch, curiosity overwhelming them.

            He ought to feel relief that Hanji knows where to let things lie, but the implications of their unwillingness sit in his stomach like rocks.  

            “Neither you nor Hanji prioritize romance above all else, which is uncommon enough, but you’ve not grown out of your platonic mates yet.”

            “We don’t have to.” _I’m not going to_.

            “No,” Farlan agrees, “but most people don’t have our relationship.”

            “I didn’t come here for redundant bullshit.”

            “You don’t interact with anyone outside of work or us. That’s fine—obviously it isn’t entirely harmful—but someone like Eren might do you some good.”

            Levi looks down at his hands. Before he can fiddle with his nails, Farlan gently holds his hands, shifts closer to Levi. Takes a deep breath. “We’ll always be here for you. We know your worth, and you know ours. You don’t know his, and it wouldn’t be the worst thing to find out how—if—he complements you.” When Levi doesn’t respond, Farlan continues. “I’m not saying you have to do anything, but I think you should consider giving Eren a chance. Developing a relationship with him doesn’t invalidate us or our bonds.”

            Levi scoffs, mutters “of course it wouldn’t,” rests his head on Farlan’s shoulder for a minute. Farlan’s arm snakes around his waist; Levi draws comfort from the touch, allows himself to retreat into his thoughts.

            Wants to tell him about Eren, about how he plans to go to his apartment immediately after this, but it still feels wrong.

            Isobel shouts that Hanji plans on eating all the cake, and Levi reluctantly stands and returns, ruffling Isobel’s hair before he sits back down.

            Kicks Hanji’s leg underneath the table.

            The universe rewards him with Hanji grinning so widely he can see the half-chewed cake in their mouth.

~~~

            An hour later, Levi finds himself driving to Eren’s apartment complex, neither too close nor too far. He wonders about that as he drives, somewhat thankful that the distance between him and Eren straddles the line between isolating and convenient.

            The yellow-orange glow from the lights shimmers on the wet, dark concrete. It was misting faintly when he left the dinner, and it had been a day of scattered thunderstorms. The streets seem to capture the glow, hold it close and safe, and he is one of the only people driving that he can see. The most company he’s had occurs at intersections.

            It’s bizarrely aesthetic, so much so that Levi is almost sad that it comes to an end. Almost—beneath that appreciation, beneath that sadness, his anxiety hums. Focusing on his surroundings is a piss-poor method of distraction. He can’t stop thinking about Hanji’s wariness, Farlan’s advice. His own desire to understand Eren mixed with the uncomfortable possibility that this is a means of simple gratification.

            His decision to visit Eren is not split-second, occurs in the minutes between flickering lights, at intersections, past trees. Occurs as the AC blasts uncomfortably chilly air on his face, against his cheek, over his lips. Continuous, like a heartbeat.

            Although he ought to trust Eren with condoms and lube, Levi still brought condoms, stashed them in his pocket, then, in his car. Would’ve felt too awkward carrying them in while Hanji ranted and Farlan stared at him. Doesn’t take them out, decides that if Eren is underprepared for this, then that’s his problem, though he feels better having brought them, even if they remain in the car. Evidence of his half-baked desire to be the bigger, better adult.

            **Levi** : I’m here.

            He’d texted when he left, too, and Eren hadn’t replied, which bothered Levi. It seemed unlike him, and the silence marked the drive, still seeps into his skin. Waits in his car for five minutes, waits until Eren responds.

            **Eren** : kk, door’s unlocked

            Levi doesn’t like the idea of Eren unlocking his door, even if it isn’t for long, but he doesn’t respond, just slams his door and enters the building. It is nice enough, though the elevator smells a little like dryer sheets and goldfish, and the hallways are worn but clean.

            When he reaches the door, he knocks, waits a second before turning the handle and letting himself in. Closes the door softly, then turns, looks around.

            The air in the apartment is more cold than warm; it’s bracing and comfortable simultaneously. Levi is grateful that Eren seems to share the same temperature preferences, though, at first glance, Eren’s apartment is less minimalist than Levi’s. Something about it makes Levi feel welcome, whether it’s the random knickknacks on the two side tables or the lava lamp night light near the front door.

            He blinks, notices that Eren isn’t in this area, cringes when he realizes he’s probably waiting for Levi in the bedroom. Scowls, gets ready to shout at Eren about not cleaning properly.

            But.

            The thing is—Eren has. Levi takes off his shoes, leaves them by the door where Eren’s shoes are in cubbies, and notices that everything is organized, that the whole apartment has been fairly clean, that the cleaning that occurred between their initial conversation hours ago and now was more tidying up and less haphazard, spontaneous deep-cleaning.

            It’s not perfect, but Eren is obviously someone who cares about cleanliness, not as much as Levi, but Levi doesn’t feel like he stepped in a puddle wearing socks, feels more relaxed than he expected, and it hurts something inside him that Eren continues to be so unexpectedly disarming.

            And then Eren walks out of what Levi assumes is his bedroom, wrapped in a blanket, hair messy, and it looks half damp, and he stares at Levi half like he wasn’t expecting him to actually come, half like Levi’s the best thing he’s seen all day, and Levi tries to brace himself for something he doesn’t—

            “Hey.” Eren’s voice interrupts Levi’s mild panic, rough and sleep-worn. “You’re here.”

            “I said I was on my way.”

            Eren shrugs, looks away. “Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

            Levi bites his tongue, choosing to stare at Eren, raises an eyebrow. He allows his disbelief and mild scorn expression through his features even as Eren doesn’t look at him; he finds that he doesn’t want to snap at Eren right now, even if it’s the only response Levi doesn’t find embarrassing.

            Thunder rumbles, and Eren’s stare jumps to Levi, frazzled and somewhat unfocused.

            Levi clears his throat (hoping Eren’s attention focuses on him, hoping he starts staring at Levi like he actually _sees_ him there). “Do you actually have something in mind, or are we going to spend the whole night staring at each other?”

            Eren blinks, shakes his head. “Um. No.”

            Levi takes a step forward. The sleeves of his shirt feel claustrophobic around his wrists. “Why did you invite me here tonight?”

            “I told you, just to relax.” There’s a stillness between them, loose but promising. Eren clears his throat, and his gaze, accusatory, sharpens. Levi is concerned, thinks he can feel him realizing Levi’s apparent misconceptions, and Levi tenses when Eren opens his mouth again. “Can I hug you?”

            Levi tilts his head. Scoffs, but nods softly.

            Once Eren has Levi’s consent, the space between them shrinks. He walks carefully through his apartment, dropping his blanket on the couch as he passes. The shirt he wears has long sleeves, concealing his marks completely, but his approving gaze snags on his pants, worn, probably impossibly soft. Disarmingly adorable. There is little time for Levi to appreciate the aesthetic of Eren in soft plaid pajama pants, though; sooner than Levi expected, Eren wraps his arms around Levi, pulling him close.

            Levi smells body wash on Eren, realizes he must’ve showered recently, and it’s enough to make him grin and hug Eren back. He wishes he’d been able to shower before visiting Eren, but Eren doesn’t seem to mind, if the hands caressing his back softly are any indication.         Levi thinks Eren might’ve nuzzled his hair at one point, but he dismisses the thought. He can hear Eren’s heartbeat, his head pressed comfortably against Eren’s chest, and it beats slow and steady. Closes his eyes, focuses on the sound, the smell, the warmth.

            He remains largely stationary, merely holding Eren in return. He knows something must’ve happened to motivate Eren to ask for this visit, and Levi tries to be as comforting as he knows how. Doesn’t want to pressure him into anything, decides that he will be as helpful as possible tonight.

            It is apparent, now, somewhat to Levi’s chagrin, that Eren didn’t call him over for mindless sex, that even Eren’s roaming hands are innocent, more affectionate than suggestive and his heartbeat remains steady. The fabric of his shirt is soft against Levi’s cheek, and he barely restrains himself from nuzzling him.

            He is uncomfortably aware of the fact that he’s still wearing work clothes, that he looks too formal compared to Eren, that he probably isn’t as comfortable to hold.

            Levi gets restless, standing and hugging Eren, but he stays as still as possible, holding Eren tight, waiting for him to pull away.

            Thunder interrupts again, and Eren winces. Levi feels him shift, his heartbeat jump, on the cusp of racing, then, as it begins to speed up, Eren slowly pulls away.

            “You good?”

            It’s a stupid question, because Eren looks anything but fine. Eren clears his throat. “Thank you for coming over.”

            “Is that a dismissal?”

            “No! I just. Thank you. For being here. I appreciate it.”

            Levi nods. Smiling feels too intimate, but he hopes that his features are soft enough to soothe Eren. “Did you want to sit down, or are we just going to stand by your door the whole night?”

            “Will you stay?”

            Levi marvels at how Eren can ask such a thing without any sense of embarrassment. “If you want.” Levi takes Eren’s hand, rubs his thumb on his skin, tugs him gently to the couch. When he turns, looks up at Eren to make sure it’s okay, that he wants to do this, Eren’s watching him with confused affection. “This okay?”

            “Yeah,” Eren replies breathlessly.

            They sit on the couch, arrange themselves so that Eren leans into Levi’s arms, chest pressed against Levi’s, legs stretched out on the cushions. Tries to make it so that Eren doesn’t completely squash him, finds that it isn’t entirely difficult to manage.

            “Do you want to watch something?” Eren’s turned his head so that it rests just barely under Levi’s chin, his cheek pressed against his shirt, one hand clutching the fabric weakly, the other nestled in an open gap between the small of his back and the end of the couch. The movement of the question feels funny on Levi’s chest.

            “Nothing in particular,” Levi answers. One arm wrapped around Eren, the other somewhat uncomfortably folded to press against his hair, slightly damp like he’d thought, absently toying with the strands, occasionally sinking in, pressing his fingers lightly into skin, running from the top of his head to the back of his neck.

            Eren hums. “I haven’t seen anything really good recently.”

            “None of my shows have new episodes.”

            “That fucking sucks.” Yawns, nuzzles closer. “Sometimes I wish mine stopped.”

            Levi chuckles. Belatedly, they realize they’d have to move to reach the remote and turn on the TV. This seems worthless to them, so they rest together in the silence of the apartment, Levi continuing to run his hands through Eren’s hair even when the position grows a little uncomfortable. Someone’s stomach gurgles every so often, but their voices, lowered to mere whispers, reject the notion of food.

            Occasionally, sounds of scattered storms interrupt the silence, but Eren’s responses fade as their bodies seem to gradually melt closer and closer.

            Levi keeps an eye on the clock, finds that he grows weary later than expected.

            Realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t want to go home. That he planned on staying, even when the circumstances were considerably less pleasant and quiet before.

            Eren must’ve fallen asleep, because suddenly there’s a sharp inhale, then he lifts his head, blinking blearily.

            “What time is it?” His voice is sleep-rough, and Levi wants to feel the words catch along his skin, his hands, nestle in the spaces between his fingers.

            “After two,” Levi replies, hand stilling in his hair.

            “Oh.” Blinks ( _cute_ ), wrinkles his nose. “Do you mind if I get up for a sec?”

            Levi shakes his head, and Eren carefully eases out of Levi’s embrace, hand drifting up Levi’s arm, through his hair in a brief, unnecessary, apology. Levi swallows; Eren had the decency to pull his hand away over the concealed marks, but his fingers were still uncomfortably close, touching his elbow, descending on his shoulder. His face is hot and his hands shake. Doesn’t know what to do with them.

            Eren isn’t gone long, leaving Levi to assume that he’d just used the bathroom. When he comes out, he holds out a hand for Levi. Takes it, allows Eren to help him up.

            Stares up at him in confusion when he doesn’t let Levi go.

            Eren clears his throat, but his voice retains remnants of sleep-roughness that make Levi’s fingertips warm. “Do you want to sleep in my bed together?”

            Levi wants to hate that he’s forced to admit that yes, he does, but he knows Eren doesn’t ask to make him uncomfortable. “Yeah.” Bites his tongue, forces himself to keep it simple. Tells himself it’s just because driving home tonight is inconvenient at best, that it probably isn’t safe driving half-awake like this.

            Eren grins sleepily at him, and Levi is breathless, his only thought as he stares at his lips that he _wants to kiss him, oh fuck_ , then, seconds later, thinks he would almost rather take his chances driving home _right now_ ; instead, he follows Eren, their hands still connected, to what he had correctly assumed was his bedroom. It looks clean in the lamplight, no trace of clothing haphazardly strewn on the floor.

            “Wait. I didn’t bring anything to sleep in,” Levi murmurs, pointedly staring at Eren’s bed.

            “Oh. I have clothes you can borrow, if you want?”

            “Thank you,” Levi murmurs. Eren opens a drawer, hands him a long-sleeved shirt, pauses and asks if he wants sweats, but no, Levi does not, so he leaves Eren to crawl into bed while he ducks into the bathroom, stares at himself in the mirror, bewildered. He relieves himself, washes his hands, strips to his boxers, and pulls Eren’s shirt on. It grazes the edges of his boxers, smells like laundry detergent. Brushes his arms, his marks. Levi shivers. Takes a deep breath, gathers his clothing.

            When he enters the bedroom again, the lamp is still on. Eren is sitting up in his bed, watching Levi as he murmurs that he can leave his clothing in his chair if he wants. Levi does so, making sure his clothes are folded properly before climbing in beside Eren.

            “Is it okay if I hold you?”

            Levi nods, turns so that his back is facing Eren, momentarily terrified of looking Eren in the eyes as he wraps his arms around him. This is nice too, the way Eren’s arm is warm and pleasantly heavy, draped over him, the way he presses against Levi’s back, the way his legs softly rest beside Levi’s.

            “Thank you for being here.”

            “No problem. I don’t mind.”

            Eren hums. “I just had a shitty day, thought you’d make it better.” Yawns. “‘Was right.”

            He presses closer, as though he feels the need to emphasize his words, and Levi rests one arm on top of Eren’s, caressing his skin as he closes his eyes, allows himself to relax.

            “I’m glad I’m here,” Levi murmurs.

            He feels Eren kiss his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hc that eren's lava lamp night light is the one that's pink with glitter in it


	7. even the sandman does not know just what to give to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y'all get to suffer cause i obsess over cuddling and physical affection the way levi obsesses over cleaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Anchor by Zee Avi

            The night is not peaceful. Nor is it entirely chaotic, not really anything demonstrative of a set binary; Levi best understands it as comfortable discomfort.

            Because this is for Eren, rather than for himself, Levi focuses on him. Tries to hold him back as best he can, be a quiet sense of relief.  Wants to play with his hair, instead strokes his arm, snuggles against him, closing his eyes. Wavers between sleep and awareness like an indecisive mother between cereal brands.

            Worries that this isn’t enough, that he needs to do more to make this worth Eren’s time. (Worries about his concern, about how quickly Levi allows the notion of offering himself. It’s too early, too late at night, the bed too soft, Eren too alive behind him. Ignores the discomfort in his stomach, the way wariness bites his skin like fingernails.) Considers twisting around (in the end), offering himself if only to silence the awful, illogical guilt in his throat, but Eren seems content. Levi doesn’t want to pressure Eren into something he isn’t even sure he wants.

            Levi knows he drifts occasionally into proper sleep, but it is only for odd periods of time. He doesn’t quite jolt awake; it’s an awareness that sweeps over him, from his toes to his head. Suddenly, he is aware of Eren. Aware that when Levi shifts, Eren accommodates him. Sometimes, Eren does so when asleep; however, sometimes Levi knows he’s half-awake too, because Eren seems to sense some aspect of Levi’s discomfort. His response is to kiss his neck softly, innocently. Clumsily. As though thankful for Levi. Hums low and soft after his lips touch Levi’s skin once, twice.

            Levi doesn’t know what to do.

            His chest hurts.

            He doesn’t know what he can do. Should do.

            He is bewildered by his inability to stop caring.

            The cloth on his arms never felt more restrictive.

            Eren’s body is warm, though it doesn’t bother Levi too much. At some point, they push the comforter away, warmed only by a thin sheet and their embrace. It is enough.

            Levi sleeps well in Eren’s arms (when he sleeps).

            Levi doesn’t spend the night in people’s arms. Never has.

            This is intimate. Terribly, ridiculously intimate. Levi bites his lip. Especially intimate for this being their first real meeting. Too tender, considering their rocky start. Levi doesn’t know what to do with this intimacy, even if it feels strangely endearing, even if it matches aspects of Eren’s personality perfectly.

            Eren’s arms are warm around him. Soft, the fabric comforting. There is a quiet eagerness in his presence, even as he sleeps. Every little movement to accommodate Levi, every simple caress filled with quiet, sleepy, determination.

            Eren doesn’t need to try so hard, but the effort is flattering. Levi enjoys the differences between cuddling different people, even as he hasn’t cuddled many, and he would’ve been fine with appreciating the difference between public, verbal Eren and this Eren—provided the differences not be terribly unappealing—but this feels overwhelmingly nice.

            He didn’t expect Eren’s constant focus. Not really, especially given the selfishness of his previous attention; however, he supposes that even in his self-absorbed pursuit, Eren would pay attention.

            Eren breathes slow and deep. Levi, caught in a moment of quiet panic, inhales and exhales with bewildering speed, disquieting in comparison to Eren. Levi tries to calm himself down; however, comparing himself to Eren makes his breathing quicken.

            Somehow, he passes out. Wakes up again, exhausted. Determined to stop thinking.

            Tries to focus on Eren without analyzing him, their situation. 

            As time passes, Levi begins to separate the smell of Eren from the smell of Eren’s body wash, and he knows enough about cuddling to know that he’ll smell like Eren when he gets up.

            His clothes will smell like them both.

            Eren will smell like Levi.

            Levi swallows.

            Tries to go back to sleep.

            Caresses Eren’s hand, sigh stuck between his teeth like a popcorn kernel.

            Eren kisses his shoulder as Levi feels himself fade.

~~~

            When Levi wakes again, he has turned around, wrapped an arm around Eren. He wakes tumultuously, mainly because he feels like he cannot breathe.

            He has turned so that he holds Eren close, clutching him somewhat pathetically, burrowing in his arms. This would be embarrassing had he not shoved his head into Eren’s chest, the sheets, with little consideration for the consequences.

            Pulls away, a little abruptly, enough to shake Eren into something dancing around the edges of full awareness. Eren doesn’t open his eyes, but his nose twitches, and his body seems to flee from Levi, even as he moves slowly. There is a decisiveness about it that makes Levi’s skin crawl.

            “Sorry,” Levi murmurs. His throat is scratchy, the apology filling his mouth. He is somewhat self-conscious about his breath, tilts himself away from Eren even as he tries to find a better way to move close.

            Eren shivers, inhales sharply. “Did I do something?”

            “No. You’re fine.”

            “Hmm. You sure?”

            Levi huffs, scoots closer.

            Eren laughs, and Levi wants to cry. Thinks he might, the way his chest burns. “Let me try something.”

            Levi hums, opens his eyes. Watches as Eren turns to lie on his back, reaches again for Levi.

            “This better?”

            Levi holds himself away a minute longer, staring into Eren’s now-open eyes. Cannot believe he is willing to curl against this man. Finds himself nodding, looking away as he places himself half on Eren, his head on his chest, one leg strewn over Eren’s.

            Eren’s arms readjust around Levi. His fingers draw circles on Levi’s shirt.

            “Better,” Levi murmurs against Eren’s shirt. Knows it’s an unnecessary statement, but he likes the way his voice feels on Eren’s chest, likes the way he can hear Eren’s heart beat a little faster.

            “Good.” Eren kisses Levi’s head. Once, twice.

            Levi feels warm in Eren’s arms.

            Eren kisses his head again (Levi doesn’t understand the appeal of kissing his hair repeatedly, but he supposes it would be rude to judge Eren terribly for his quirks), except this time, his lips linger longer. Not terribly long, thankfully, not long enough to slobber on Levi (hopefully, but fuck, Levi doesn’t want to consider the possibility), but enough that Levi feels like Eren’s intimacy expects some response.

            Levi’s initial internal reaction is to suggest repositioning himself and kissing Eren, hovering over him, pressing Eren into his bed.

            Realizes that this might very well be what Eren desires. That Eren might be kissing him, offering comfort and secretly hoping for more.

            That Levi immediately finds himself willing ( _again_ ) to give it to him sends deep waves of panic. (Even though Levi ought to be disgusted by the type of kiss, even though Eren really isn’t special, that people don’t just drop who they are like this.)

            Eren isn’t his. Eren isn’t what he’s supposed to have.

            Eren and Levi barely know each other.

            Levi spent their first shared night in Eren’s arms. Moving closer, offering comfort, burrowing in his arms.

            Why wouldn’t sex seems like a logical option? Hadn’t Levi practically thrown himself at Eren? Hadn’t he expected it?

            Levi curses under his breath. Eren’s shirt feels too constricting against his skin, his feet are uncomfortably cold. Eren presses another, shorter, kiss.

            “Don’t kiss me like that, shitstain.” It’s out before Levi can think twice, before he can wonder whether voicing his discomfort is wise. Immediately, he wants to negate his order. Knows he will miss the sensation, knows Eren’s probably just trying to show simple affection.

            “Like what?” Annoyance clips Eren’s voice. His body is tense under Levi’s. Levi doesn’t know the proper protocol for this discussion, doesn’t know if he ought to remove himself from Eren’s embrace, if he ought to stay.

            Determines the conversation easier to carry if he cannot see Eren’s face. Sighs. “It’s too much.” Stifling. Intimate. Levi feels cherished. _Almost_.

            _It feels like you care_.

            Eren sighs. “You can throw yourself on me, but I’m not allowed to kiss you?”

            The anger in Eren’s voice infuriates Levi. One of Levi’s hands, close to his face, clenches Eren’s shirt. Swallows the words of protest building around his tongue, the urge to deck Eren. Wants to remind Eren just how little Levi is obligated to him, his whims, his affection. Squirms as softly as he can, a warning for Eren to loosen his arms.

            He can feel the hesitation in Eren’s embrace, even as he heeds the warning. Levi sits up, stares at the sheets pooled around them, soft. Thinks, fleetingly, of cheesy commercials about chocolate, drops interrupting waves and waves and waves…

            “I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice is a blur, jilted softness, the discomfort of finding dried ice cream on your hand.

            Eren’s carpet is cool and soft beneath his feet. Goosebumps distract Levi from the discomfort of their conversation, only slightly. Legs feel too exposed; any other occasion, and Levi would be acutely aware of the implications of showing this much skin in the privacy of Eren’s apartment during the day, but their conversation sticks to his skin like spider webs. Icy air clings to his warm shirt, and if he moves his arms just so, he can smell Eren and himself in the fabric. Hates that, as he ducks into the bathroom, he tries to catch the scent again.

            Relieves himself, a necessary action masquerading proudly as an excuse to escape Eren. To calm down, stifle his panic, his rage. When he washes his hands, his gaze flickers from his eyes to his hands. Clenches and relaxes them repeatedly. Stares at droplets of water on his wrist the towel missed.

            Knows: Eren wants a relationship with Levi. Relationships demand communication. Relationships like this are intimate, unless otherwise indicated, unless those involved don’t want that. All the same, there are things Levi cannot ignore about this relationship. His actions. Irresponsible to his future mate, the one Levi has spent his whole life waiting for.

            Knows: If Eren were his mate, these problems would not go away; however, Levi would be expected to deal with them. Communicate, make up, grow. Soulmates are work; soulmates are earned. Soulmates are chosen for you, and if you don’t choose them in return, you don’t deserve happiness. Or mates. Or success. Or—anything.

            Everything ingrained in Levi demands exiting, dropping Eren from his life.

            _You can’t even wake up in his arms peacefully._

            Levi grits his teeth, sucks air into his mouth, wincing at the chilly air licking pain up his teeth, through his mouth. Ignores most of his urges, exits the bathroom, stands at the edge of the bed.

            Eren is sitting up, staring at Levi. Waiting.

            His gaze flickers to Levi’s clothes, but Levi resolutely stares at Eren’s face, eyes. Tries to tell him silently that, if he were leaving, he wouldn’t be standing beside the bed, waiting for Eren to need him back in his arms. Waiting to be invited, rather than extending the invitation.

            Sighs when Eren lays back down, watching Levi. Resumes his previous position.

            This is his only indication that Levi might be welcome again.

            Levi bites his lip. Brings one hand up to card through his own hair, mildly exasperated. Grunts and takes another step toward the bed. When Eren says nothing, Levi continues forward until he is pressed against the bed and feels arms reaching toward him, pulling him close, and Levi lets himself be guided back to Eren.

            Victory (convoluted, debatable) feels stale, sticky against the roof of Levi’s mouth.  

            He can feel the unspoken words trapped between Eren’s chest and Levi’s cheek. Feel the confusion underneath the jarring shifts from rage to contriteness to concern.

            “Kissing hair is gross.” Levi pretends his voice doesn’t waver.

            Eren sighs. “I won’t do it again. But don’t get angry at me just because I didn’t know. You can’t get angry at me for crossing boundaries you didn’t tell me about.”

            Levi lifts his head so that he can look at Eren. Props himself up gently, Eren’s arms softly moving to support him. Watches as he swallows. Tilts his head, considers his words. “Tch. Well. Now you know.”   

            Eren shakes his head. Stares up at the ceiling, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Levi watches him, accosted by the bewildering urge to run his hands through his hair. “That doesn’t sound like an efficient system.”

            “I’ll tell you when you make me uncomfortable, and you’ll have the right to smack me if I get too angry.” It comes out a bizarre mix of demanding and questioning. Wishes he knew the right amount of softness for speech.

            Eren nods. Tries to smile, but there’s something about the way his teeth shine that hurts Levi’s head. Draws a weary sigh from his lips even as he dares to run a hand through Eren’s hair. He wants this with Eren, knows he does, feels it simmering beneath his skin, corrupting his marks. “You don’t have to do the same, you know.”

            “Hmm?” One of Eren’s hands clutches Levi’s side, idly tracing endless circles. Levi shifts his arm, hand propping his face.

            Stares resolutely at Eren’s collar. “Boundaries.” Bites his lip, licks his teeth. (Disgusted at the staleness of sleep, resolved to speak regardless.) “You can tell me yours however you’d like. Whenever you’re comfortable.”

            Grins up at Levi, and he thinks his words might have been worth it. “I’ll make a list later.”

            Levi huffs affectionately, sinking against Eren’s chest again. They lay with each other for the better part of an hour before Eren’s stomach growls. Driven to the kitchen, Eren asks Levi if he wants pants as they tug themselves away from his sheets.

            Clothed nearly completely in Eren’s belongings, Levi’s feet are soft and quiet behind Eren’s. One hand warmed in Eren’s (unnecessary, cheesy) grasp. It’s not a large apartment; the contact is logically useless, but the warm gesture eases Levi.

            If Levi were angrier, he would re-clean the kitchen before making breakfast, but he’s not, he’s tired and resolved to focus as best he can on Eren, on the sliver of comfortable happiness he felt following him out of the bedroom, hands warm and rough-soft. (Besides, the kitchen is clean already, enough to make a second cleaning _almost_ wasteful.)

            “Do you want me to make breakfast?”

            Levi shakes his head. “Let me do it.” _Please_.

            Eren nods, hesitates beside Levi. The apartment is silent, Levi’s body close to the fridge, eyes focused on Eren. Raises an eyebrow, adopting an annoyed frown, hoping Eren can’t see how little Levi minds his attention.

            “Right. Um. Thank you. Want any help?” Eren doesn’t move away, doesn’t look away.

            “Don’t need any.” Motions to his fridge, “may I?”

            Nodding again ( _bobblehead_ ), Eren finally steps away. Bites his lip just as Levi forces himself to look away, open the fridge. Levi finds that it’s well-stocked, for someone like Eren. He can safely say he didn’t know what to expect when his hand met the cold door handle, but he is relieved nonetheless to find that there are things he can use.

            When he turns around again, Eren has left the room. Levi tilts his head, scans the area, returns to work. It’s Eren’s apartment, and he ought to be honored that Eren doesn’t consider him a fuck-up that needs constant monitoring.

            Levi has breakfast ready by the time Eren returns. Nothing about his appearance is drastically altered, except Levi guesses he went and brushed his teeth, washed his face. Wishes he had the opportunity, reconsiders, briefly. He’ll be leaving, but even if he isn’t, surely Eren won’t mind Levi at least brushing his teeth.

            Eren clears his throat, as though Levi didn’t notice him entering the room.

            “It’s done,” Levi unnecessarily observes.

            Eren unnecessarily hums. “Thank you, Blossom Butt.”

            “I poisoned it.”

            “Sure you did.”

            “You’re gonna die.”

            “Only because you’re so cute.”

            Levi scowls, sits down across from Eren, resentful. “Cheesy shit.”

            “It’s not my fault I have nothing else to call you.”

            Levi doesn’t want to reply, allows himself to be swallowed by silence. Wants to hear his name from Eren’s mouth, in Eren’s voice, but there’s an intimacy, certainty, in the gesture. _Not yet_.

            Knows there are ways Eren could find his name, but Levi trusts him enough to respect the boundaries they’ve made. Enjoys the concept of controlling when Eren identifies him verbally.

            The nicknames are revolting, though.

            Levi tries not to look up at Eren while he eats, not fond of interacting with people during meals. This discomfort, impersonal, provides a measure of comfort through the familiarity. Eren doesn’t try hard to engage Levi in continued casual conversation.

            When they finish eating, Eren compliments Levi. It feels practiced but warm, like microwaved dinners. Genuine but forced. Levi has enough confidence in his rudimentary culinary skills that it is less of a blow to his confidence and more unnerving in its uncertain calmness.

            Still, Levi treats it with the necessary respect, managing not to curse at Eren.

            Asks if there’s a spare toothbrush he can use, flees to the bathroom when Eren nods, tells him where it is. Brushes his teeth thoroughly, erasing the staleness from his mouth as best he can. Clutches the toothbrush uncertainly when he’s done, torn between discarding it or leaving it, annoyed and flustered. It looks cheap, and really, who would recycle spare toothbrushes, so he tosses it with no small amount of self-aggravation.

            When he leaves, Eren is fidgeting with his hands on his couch. Stands when Levi enters. Coughs.

            “Thank you for the toothbrush.”

            Eren grins. “Thank you for coming over, and staying, on short notice.”

            “’Wasn’t a problem.”

            “Still, thank you.”

            Levi nods.

            “Yesterday was… bad, and I’m not a fan of thunderstorms. You… helped.” The words fall through the air like styrofoam blocks.

            Levi’s tongue feels slimy, Eren’s confession like cotton candy in his teeth. “Glad I helped. I didn’t mind.”

            “I enjoyed it. You’re surprisingly good at cuddling.”

            Levi playfully scowls at Eren. “Brat.”

            Eren smirks. “Your brat.”

             Levi clears his throat. Tries to ignore the distance between them even as he forces himself to walk forward. “I should probably be going soon.” Even though it’s a Saturday, even though Levi has no plans, surely Eren does. Levi’s done his job, made Eren feel better. Levi’s presence isn’t necessary anymore. When Eren says nothing, just blinks at him, Levi takes another step forward. “I’ll leave now. Bye.”

            “Wait!”

            Levi stops, tilts his head. “What?”

            Eren suddenly looks embarrassed, though he walks over to Levi, walks with him to the front door in awkward silence. Levi is bewildered, but he allows Eren’s company.

            If this were a real date, this would probably be where Eren kissed Levi. Instead, Eren stands close to Levi in front of his door, looks down at him.

            “Can we do this again?”

            Despite himself, Levi nods. Wonders why none of Eren’s friends are good enough for this, why none of them were—oh.

            None of them were available. Hence, Eren’s flustered request, the short notice.

            Levi’s throat feels too tight. Should’ve known. Turns away from Eren as he feels Eren’s hand touch his arm.

            “You should probably put proper clothes on.”

            Fuck. “I forgot.”

            “I didn’t notice until just now. Sorry.”

            Levi shakes his head, returns to Eren’s bedroom. He hates the sensation of wearing dirty clothes, especially after waking up, but there isn’t anything else he can do. He clutches Eren’s shirt in his hands, determined to clean it himself.

            Eren hasn’t moved from his spot at the door, and he immediately notices Eren’s shirt when he looks up.

            “I’ll return it to you after I wash it.” Prays that Eren doesn’t put up a fight. Eren must notice something, because he doesn’t fight Levi, just nods, then smiles.

            “Looks like I’ll have an excuse to see you.” His playful voice makes Levi’s arms warm.

            “You already had one.” At Eren’s confusion, Levi sighs. “Your need for cuddling. You know, two of my mates and I cuddle regularly. You should try it.” His words sting his lips like too much cinnamon, linger like butter.

            “Cuddling Armin is different. Besides, yesterday I just wanted you.”

            Levi looks up, finding Eren’s gaze sun-warm on his skin, meeting his eyes. “Oh.”

            Eren leans down, kisses Levi’s cheek, forehead. Grins at him softly, face still too close. “Thank you for being here.”

            Levi lets a small grin mar his features as he raises one hand to cup Eren’s face. Rubs his cheek affectionately with his thumb as he stands on the tips of his toes, tilts his head down gently, and kisses his forehead.

            “See you later.”

            Eren’s grin is blinding, and Levi’s eyes feel wrong. “See you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe i was this close to having levi leave eren's apartment in eren's pjs


	8. eyes against my own skin, I have never been so caught up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so Self-Indulgent like To The Max but also a relatively important chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Evergreen by Ben Howard
> 
> some of the formatting might be a little awkward; i apologize. it's late, my eyes hurt, and i just want this out of my hands

            Levi returns to his apartment and takes a shower. Brushes his teeth beforehand—again, washing the taste of Eren’s toothpaste away. Scrubs harder than he should, his forced apathy stifling, like trying on old jeans, too tight and too small. Remembers the bathroom door is open, shuffles to slam it shut.

            Doesn’t reconsider as he waits for warmer water, familiar distaste towards the sweat under his arms, coating his face, driving him forward. Shoves himself in the shower too quickly, closes the door, tries not to look at his rumpled clothing carelessly piled beside the counter. Levi closes his eyes, feels himself fade, refocusing blankly, smelling his soap already on his skin.

            Stands under the showerhead, facing away from the water. His head is tilted back, and he lets the water run down his back, trickling in paths down his legs. He has already scrubbed himself clean, knows this from the scent and sensation alone. Doesn’t want to leave, relishes the warmth. His arms are pink, almost sensitive to the touch. His hands travel along his skin in familiar recognition. _This is my body_.

            The routine is somewhat pleasant, the novelty of understanding his body as his (not some distant fog, not the possession of mates, not an imaginary extension of his thoughts) worn but warm. It is not disquieting anymore, remembering that, should these moments not occur, Levi would simply live without fully realizing that he was more than a bundle of tastes and touches, thoughts.

            Exits having taken care of himself. Exits smelling like his own body wash, his own shampoo, his own conditioner. Erases the scent of Eren, of himself, of the two mingled together, but his skin remembers Eren’s arms, remembers the rough-softness of his lips on his skin, the way his fingers spread warmth along the surface of his clothing. His hand warm and secure in Eren’s.

            Instead of waiting until tomorrow, Levi begins cleaning his bathroom, as he does every weekend. Does so without music, letting his mind slip into vacancy without help. Scrubs the floors, the toilet, the countertop, cleans his cabinet, empties the garbage. (Chooses to forget, to throw thoughts of Eren in recycling. Easy enough, though his chest aches as his thoughts dissipate.)

            Finishes to find four texts from Farlan, unanswered. They aren’t important—Farlan, like Isobel, rarely sends one text at a time—asking if he wants to get dinner. The texts occurred an hour ago, which means that—

            Someone knocks on Levi’s door. “Someone” being Farlan, as is confirmed when Levi allows him inside.

            Farlan’s nose curls at the smell of Levi’s cleaning. He should be familiar with it, but he chooses to showcase his reaction every time he catches Levi during a cleaning session. Isobel and Hanji have decided to ignore it unless something extremely unusual occurs; Farlan clings to his initial reactions like a childhood stuffed-animal.

            It is amusing to Levi most days. Today, he doesn’t want to think about scents, about smelling and remembering and, fuck, he wants to forget everything, wants to drown himself in the warmth of Farlan’s familiar arms.

            “You’re a day early,” Farlan comments as he perches on a stool in Levi’s kitchen.

            Levi ignores him, knows full well Farlan thinks something’s up, washes his hands under the kitchen sink. Feels Farlan’s gaze heavy on his skin. Relishes the sensation, breathes in slow and deep, hopes Farlan’s concern continues to feel like a heavy, itchy jacket. Overlaps his skin, overwhelms, consumes.

            “You don’t deviate from your cleaning schedule easily.” His commentary, however, lackluster. Could be done without.

            “Sounds like you keep tabs on me.”

            “All part of my mate-ly duties, you know.”

            Levi tosses a playfully judgmental look over his shoulder as he dries his hands. “Poor Isobel.”

            “I am a good mate, I’ll have you know! I take care of you both just fine.”

            Levi chuckles. Allows himself to drown in affection for his mate. Turns around and leans against the counter. “Oh? Do you?”

            “Yeah! Isobel’s napping, then she’s gonna watch one of her shows, so I’m taking you out to get food. Taking care of you.” Farlan stands. Walks and positions himself in front of Levi, one on each side of Levi’s torso, arms brushing along his sides as his hands clutch the edge of the countertop.

            Levi stares up at him, smirks a little. “Oh? And what if I say no?”

            “You’re gonna eat, Levi. One way or another.”

            “I can think of at least ten pornos that start out like this.”

            “What, with me dragging you to a greasy fast-food place and shoving a burger down your throat? Sexy.” Farlan’s hands pull away from the counter, rest against Levi’s hips.

            “Kinkshamer.”

            Farlan snorts and presses his forehead gently against Levi’s. Levi smiles despite himself, allows his hands to hold Farlan. His eyes slip shut, and he takes a minute to breathe, ground himself.

            “Kinkshaming is my kink.”

            It’s incredibly lame, but, as Farlan knows, nothing delights Levi more than shitty humor. Levi lets something like a laugh-huff serve as his response, his hands tugging Farlan slightly closer.

            He needs this, more than he’d like to think, after his night with Eren. He needs to feel Farlan’s arms wrapped around him, feel this steady sureness, this grounded, deep, safe affection. The affirmation of time and energy, of their valid bond. Needs something that doesn’t make his head hurt, his body ready to give more than his mind is willing.  
            “Something wrong?”

            “No.”

            The worst part is that Levi isn’t lying; it isn’t quite the truth either, though.

            His skin seems to remember the way Eren clung to him in the night, after the dinner, in the morning, however briefly. Remembers the way Eren looked up at him after Levi almost suffocated and died, the way his eyes were soft, trusting.

            Remembers how easy it would have been to offer himself.

            Remembers that Eren doesn’t even know his name.

            ( _Can’t have sex yet, then._ )

            Remembers the disgusting kissing, the panic in his toes and the way Eren’s shirt smelled, fuck, the way their scent lingered (regrets, briefly, showering). The way his legs tangled with Eren’s, warm and sturdy.

            “You sure? You can say yes, you know, if you want. We don’t have to talk about it.”

            “You’ll blabber to Four-Eyes.”

            Levi feels Farlan gently shake his head. Hums blandly, merely in acknowledgement of Farlan’s movement. Their noses brush, and Levi relishes in the weightless gesture. Knows he could press for more, that he has, in the past, done so successfully and consensually. That Isobel and Hanji don’t mind Farlan and Levi’s physical relationship. Hanji doesn’t subjectively understand any craving for physical affection; Isobel first tried to give them a safe-sex talk, which Levi quickly stopped. Beneath their respective quirks, the four of them understood that they could be physically and platonically affectionate and respected each other’s boundaries. It takes a lot of communication; however, the effort is richly rewarded. Levi is fiercely proud of their openness, cultivated through time and mutual trust, affection.

            Farlan’s nose bumps Levi’s, and he opens his eyes, meets Farlan’s. “I won’t,” Farlan replies. “Stays between us.”

            “‘M not going to talk about it.” Not today.

            “That’s cool.” One of Farlan’s hands moves to cup Levi’s cheek, the tips of his fingers grazing Levi’s hair. “Is there anything I can do?”

            “Not really.”

            Farlan frowns but doesn’t comment. Doesn’t keep the conversation alive, only brushes his thumb over Levi’s lips, their silent signal. Levi’s lips quirk upward, and Farlan leans down, presses his against Levi’s. It doesn’t last long, Levi’s hand reaching upward to cup his neck, thumb rubbing circles on his skin. Doesn’t involve more than their lips pressing against each other. When they pull away, Farlan kisses his nose, laughs as Levi’s mouth twitches.

            “Cute.”

            Farlan reaches for Levi’s hand, and Levi allows the gesture, follows Farlan out of the apartment.

~~~

            True to his word, Farlan doesn’t pester Levi, though he doesn’t shove a burger down Levi’s throat. Instead, they visit a favorite diner of theirs, sit in comfortable silence. Occasionally, empty chatter spills from their lips, the sounds of their voices mingling pleasantly.

            Levi returns to his apartment calmer, happier, distantly appreciative of the beautiful sunset. Checks his laundry, started somewhere during the earlier bathroom cleaning, dry but somewhat wrinkled. Removes the lint, restarts the dryer to fluff the clothing.

            Eren’s shirt is in the dryer, amongst other things.

            Eren’s shirt is being cleaned.

            Levi knows that if he keeps the shirt beyond tonight, he’ll be acutely aware of its presence all the time. His gaze constantly snagging on it, remembering the shape and feel. Reminds him of cinnamon, pleasant, yes, but strong, overbearing. A scent that spills and stains every surface of the room, coats the back of his teeth.

            His apartment has things Isobel and Hanji left (pretended to abandon, as though his pride couldn’t take them directly infiltrating his space, while Farlan dumped his belongings shamelessly), knickknacks, some clothes, toothbrushes. (Has a toothbrush and toothpaste for each of them. Deodorant, too.) Enough for occasional visits that cover days, enough for emergencies. They each have an equal amount of clothing, each have their own drawer. Some of their clothing hangs beside Levi’s, and, though he wouldn’t tell them, he occasionally finds himself reaching for theirs absently. Has tried to wear their clothes when half-awake, too tired to be properly irritated and embarrassed when he changes again.

            Admittedly, their things in his apartment made the atmosphere more comforting.

            Eren’s shirt would do the trick if he was able to acclimate to it, if it wasn’t tied to emotions that made his skin itch. It isn’t comforting at all; it doesn’t fill an absence, only accentuates it.

            He wants it out of their apartment. Wants to see Eren again, misses his soft skin, silky hair. Walks out of the laundry area, stands in the middle of his living room. Grabs his phone thoughtlessly.

            **Levi** : I’ve washed your shirt.

            **Eren** : that was fast ;)

            Levi rolls his eyes. His cheeks feel warm, and he frowns at his phone. Lays on his side on the couch, holds his phone up to his face. Doesn’t know what to say, leaves the conversation open. His fingers hover hesitantly over the keyboard.

            **~~Levi~~** ~~: Do you have to be like this?~~

            **~~Levi~~** ~~: Today was laundry day.~~

            His nose twitches. He can’t believe he typed that. It feels too old, and it intimidates him, feels like a reminder of the difference in their ages. He’s been trying to ignore it; not that it seems terribly large, but Levi is afraid to consider another reason they shouldn’t be together.

            **~~Levi~~** ~~: Do you want it or not.~~

            Almost sends that text, backspaces at the last minute. Doesn’t want to snap at Eren for flirting, for responding positively to the implications in Levi’s text. Fortunately, Levi sees that Eren has begun typing a new message; his fingers still.

            **Eren** : did you want me to come over and get it, or did you want to drop it off?

            **Eren** : you don’t have to give it to me right away

            **Levi** : Yes, I do.

            Eren’s response arrives two minutes later.

            **Eren** : awwww, miss me already?

            Levi knows Eren’s joking around. Knows, but impulsively decides to respond truthfully, curious.

            **Levi** : Yes.

            Eren doesn’t respond for five minutes, and when he does, all he does is ask for Levi’s address. Nothing else. Levi gives it to him; Eren thanks him, then the conversation is over.

            Levi lets his phone fall from his hands, hitting the couch cushion dully. Stares at his blank TV vacantly, pretending his gaze doesn’t flicker to the clock every so often. His tongue feels too heavy, body too warm. Continues laying on his side, curling in on himself slightly.

            Doesn’t want to move, not even when he finally hears someone knock on his door. Takes a deep breath, acutely aware of his feet as they meet his floor, the sounds they make as he forces himself to get up, answer the door.

            “Hello,” Eren says after Levi opens the door, motions for him to come inside. (Mouth dry, words snagged in his sandpaper throat.)

            Coughs. “Hello.”

            “You okay?” Eren sounds concerned, and Levi closes the door.

            “Fine.”

            “Good.”

            They stand in the entryway, Levi staring at his feet, thinks he feels Eren’s gaze. No one says anything for a minute.

            “You sure?”

            “Yeah.” Pauses. “Yeah. I’ll—get your shirt.”

            “Oh. Thank you.”

            “No problem.” Levi leaves, grabs the shirt. Takes a moment to stare at the shirt in his hands while not under Eren’s scrutiny. Can’t remember why he felt the need to do this today. Feels embarrassed, that he seems like he can’t go more than hours after seeing Eren. Clears his throat.

            “Here you go.” Levi returns, interrupts the silence. Meets Eren’s gaze, affectionate, focused.

            “Thank you.”

            Levi nods. Clenches his hands.

            “Um. Did… How was your day?”

            “It was good. Yours?”

            “Good. Didn’t do much.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, just stayed in after you left. Didn’t have much to do. You?”

            Levi clears his throat. “Didn’t do much either. Cleaned.”

            Eren tilts his head. “Would you like me to go, or would you like company? Unless you have other plans.”

            Levi looks up at Eren, grins despite himself. “No plans. I wouldn’t mind your company.”

            Eren smirks, eyes warm. Steps closer, hands enveloping Levi’s, coaxing them to unclench. His fingers are warm around Levi’s, and some part of him already missed this. “I wouldn’t mind yours, either.”

            “That’s convenient,” Levi murmurs as Eren leans down, presses their foreheads together gently.

            Eren’s hands rest against Levi’s face, and he allows himself the affection, nuzzling into one of Eren’s hands, kissing his palm. Decides to enjoy their time together and not think. Thinking ruined the morning; maybe Levi can fix the lingering awkwardness.

            “Thank you for coming.”

            “That’s what she said.”

            “Eren.”

            “Reading.”

            “ _Eren_.”

            “I will pull out ‘Blossom Butt’ again.”

            “I’ll kick you out.”

            “You wouldn’t.” Eren’s eyes widen in playful concern, and Levi twists his lips in an exaggerated scowl.

            “Dead serious.”

            “Hmph. To think I came all this way for you.”

            “I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

            “Probably.”

            Levi drops his scowl, wonders if Eren’s serious. Can’t tell between the mix of playfulness in Eren’s voice and the steady warmth in his lips, eyes. The tenderness of his hands. Hums to stall, to offer some lukewarm response.

            “Sorry. Is that too forward?”

            Clears his throat. “No, just unexpected.”

            “Too sudden?”

            Levi shrugs. “I’m not really sure what would be considered normal for this kind of thing.”

            “I’m more concerned about what you feel than what we’re supposed to do.”

            Levi bites his lip, watches as Eren’s eyes snag on the motion. Feels his cheeks heat. “I don’t know.” He looks away from Eren. Doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, or do, or reveal. Doesn’t know what Eren actually wants. “Still figuring that out.”

            “Don’t rush if you don’t know. I can wait.” His thumb strokes Levi’s cheek.

            Levi reaches for Eren, pulls him closer, pulls his forehead away from Eren’s, gently moving his head away from Eren’s hands and repositioning them into a proper hug. Doesn’t know what to say in response, hopes that Eren understands.

            Knows he’s been wavering, that he hasn’t allowed himself to fully grasp the initial attraction, Eren’s allure. Staying like this won’t do him any good in the long run, nor will it make the inevitable end less painful. Above all else, he is tired of vacillating between extremes, would rather commit to Eren now and figure things out from there.

            Doesn’t know how to tell Eren. Hates aimless blathering, hopes Eren will understand him.

            Clears his throat. Considers doing this away from Eren’s gaze, safe in the warmth of his arms, chest, shoulders, but he wants to be certain, wants to see his face. Levi sighs, pulls away just enough to look at him properly. Keeps his arms wrapped around Eren, relieved when Eren does the same.

            “My name is Levi.” _This won’t make me any less difficult. Please don’t give up on me_. Feels selfish, thinking, hoping Eren won’t leave, but he allows himself a moment of chosen greed.

            Eren’s face flushes (beautifully), eyes almost sparkling, and Levi didn’t think that was a real thing for the longest time, thought people were romanticizing stupid shit, but Eren’s eyes really are sparkling, and he thinks he might have accidentally broken him a little bit.

            “So, you can stop calling me shitty nicknames now.”

            Eren laughs, the sound pulled from his lips, from in-between his lips, heavy and raw. Levi wishes he knew how to deal with emotional brats. “I don’t think Blossom Butt is going away ever. But thank fuck I can stop calling you Reading.”

            “Thank fuck,” Levi echoes.

            “Everyone thought I was weird, calling you Reading.”

            “Heaven forbid people think you’re suddenly interested in something intellectual.”

            Eren snorts so hard he starts coughing, and it’s the most awkwardly delightful thing Levi thinks he’s seen all day. All the same, he pulls away so that Eren isn’t coughing half on him, half on the air beside him. Hardly an improvement, but Levi can’t fault him for trying.

            “Sorry,” Eren coughs again, “I should be offended, I think.”

            “Probably.”

            “But I’m not. Fuck, I love your sense of humor, Levi.”

            Levi's heart beats fast and loud, hearing his name from that mouth, in that voice, in this room. With Eren’s hands now lightly grabbing his arms, the aftermath of the name settling between them like dust.

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah,” Eren grins, “Levi.”

            Levi’s knuckles feel too tight. “That is my name.”

            “I know. I like it. Levi.”

            “I’ve noticed.”

            “It’s nice. Feels like butter.”

            Levi’s always found his name tasting like peppermint or pine needles, sharp and cool and aching. Forest green against dark grey skies. “Is that good?”

            “I wouldn’t exactly repeat your name if I didn’t like it, Levi.”

            Levi almost wishes he hadn’t told Eren his name; he hadn’t anticipated Eren using it every chance he got, incapacitating Levi every goddamn time he spoke. “You never know.” Levi’s ordered the same dish countless times, confusing the tastes of the words with the dish themselves, so he refuses to immediately assume Eren’s repetition is because he enjoys his name.

            (Which is horrifically stupid, given Eren’s grinning like he can’t stop, like he wants to smother his face with joy. Given Eren’s voice holds his name carefully.)

            “Are we going to sit down, or are you going to hold me hostage by the door for another three hours?”

            “We have not been standing here for three hours, Levi.”

          Levi steps farther away, shakes his head. “Unnecessary. You don’t need to say my name that frequently.”

          “Yes, I do.” Eren moves forward, boops Levi on the nose. “You’re smiling, you know. And blushing. It’s too adorable.”

           Levi turns around and stomps the rest of the way to his couch. “I am not adorable.”

           “Cute. Precious. Endearing. Gorgeous. I could go on.”

           “You could also stop speaking.”

           “But then who’d call you Blossom Butt?” Eren’s followed Levi, stands in front of him.

            Levi sits down, stares up at Eren. Vaguely annoyed at the distance between them, he scoffs. “Doesn’t seem like anyone will anymore, given your infatuation with my name.”

            “That’s not all I’m infatuated with.”

            Levi tries to frown. “Are you going to sit down, or just stand in front of the TV like an ass?”

            Answering Levi’s question quickly, Eren plops down beside him, pulling Levi in his arms again. Levi turns, looks at Eren. Allows himself to stare for a second before moving, but Eren won’t let him move just yet. Looks like he’s preparing for something, and Levi’s about to drop a crass comment when Eren leans down, kisses his cheek. Pulls away, lets Levi stare, dumbfounded, at nothing in particular.

            “Thank you for telling me your name, Levi.”

            Levi grumbles in reply, rests his head against Eren’s shoulder. “Pick something to watch, dipshit.”

            Eren doesn’t verbally reply, merely rests his head against Levi’s as he unknowingly selects one of the shows he’s watched with Isobel and Farlan during their cuddle sessions. It wasn’t one they chose to re-watch, mostly because Farlan hated one of the actors, but Levi liked it well enough.

            Levi supposes, in the beginning, he wouldn’t mind watching the show and paying attention for once, but that quickly becomes pathetically laughable. Levi pays even less attention now than he did with Isobel and Farlan. Levi lets his mind drift into silence as he rests in Eren’s arms, relaxes and loses track of time.

            Drifts into sleep after an estimated three and a half episodes have passed. Tries to tell Eren that he doesn’t have to stay, but Levi’s half awake and he’s pretty sure he muttered something about an ostrich. Eren only laughs softly, tells him he’ll stay if Levi wants him.

            Levi doesn’t remember opening his mouth again, but he knows one of his hands, clutching the hem of Eren’s shirt weakly, tightens momentarily.

            Knows only that Eren doesn’t leave, just murmurs his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> farlan and levi brotp with sensual platonic affection for the fucking win. normalize sensual/sexual affection in platonic relationships


	9. my pillow was the thought of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this is later than i would've liked; personal issues got in the way of writing this. things should be back to normal now, though

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from 31 Days by Zee Avi

            Levi doesn’t fade in and out of sleep when he naps with Eren, hardly feels that any time passed when he wakes, except the clock reads differently. The character’s voices, familiar, warm, make the background silence sweet, if not uncertain. He wonders whether Eren fell asleep too, whether—

            A hand brushes his neck, fingers skimming along his skin. They curl circles and waves up and down, up and down, dip into his hair. Levi arches his neck slightly, feels more than hears a rumbling laugh.

            “You’re like a cat.”

            “‘M not,” Levi mumbles against the fabric of Eren’s shirt.

            Another piece of laughter, jagged but full. “It’s getting late.” When Levi doesn’t respond (doesn’t know what to say or how to say anything regardless of his head being empty and mouth useless like snow-gloves in the summer), Eren clears his throat, and Levi shifts, looks up at Eren. “Tomorrow is Sunday.”

            Levi raises an eyebrow. Takes the bait. “And?”

            “I can’t do a perfect first date if we go out tomorrow, but we could go out anyways, and I could surprise you another time.”

            Levi doesn’t like that he forces himself to not smile up at Eren. “We don’t need a perfect date.”

            Eren shrugs. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to treat you right.”

            “Treating me right is respecting my boundaries, not shoving an expensive steak down my throat.”

            “Treating you right involves respect and providing you with nice experiences. You deserve to be taken out properly, Levi. I want to do something nice for you, at some point.”

            “You don’t need an extravagant reason to be around me.” It’s the truth, but Eren doesn’t seem to have prior knowledge of the sentiment, given the way his eyebrows raise, his gaze warmer.

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah.”

            The silence that follows is uncomfortable, Levi looking away, trying to process Eren directly addressing the issue of dating.

            In a mates situation, the people in question would’ve already been somewhat familiar, so initial dating is usually transitioning between distant acquaintances to romantic mates, learning more about the other. Generally, the beginning dates are more private, allowing them to get to know each other better before their relationship becomes public. Plenty of fiction delves into the details of private dating, but reality allows more privacy, making the initial stages of dating intimate and personal. Validating the marks, validating their relationship, beginning to understand how they work with the other. It’s a system that hinges on practicality (public dates generally smoother when the mates know more about each other) and vanity (the aftermath of connecting and communicating illustrating the beauty of soulmates).

            Platonic mates don’t require the same showmanship, particularly due to their relevance being largely personal, less intertwined with public social customs or legal issues. Their relationships with Levi were a lot less public in comparison, and he understands that, because Eren wants a romantic relationship regardless, this will be nothing like what he’s experienced.

            Levi is trying not to compare their beginning dating with the customary romantic mate practices recklessly, somewhat out of respect for Eren; however, it appears Eren’s desire to begin extravagant public dating is a way to experience everything he can about dating Levi before they break up. He doesn’t consider this with any arrogance; if anything, it is humbling, almost enough to make Levi sad.

            Regardless of his feelings, Levi knows this is important. How they choose to date matters. Either, they continue in private, or they rush into public.

            If they rush into public, their relationship will be up for scrutiny, scrutiny that seeps into all future private and public dates. Levi thinks Eren wants to be public for several reasons, though Levi knows he will focus on Eren’s desire to have as much of a relationship with him as possible. Without too much attachment, without too much deep connection.

            If they continue like this, creating a foundation of comfort, allowing themselves to communicate, Levi can’t distance himself as easily. Won’t have as many reminders that their relationship isn’t built to last. That Eren isn’t someone Levi can love or cherish.

            It’s cruel, promising a future they won’t have, but Levi wants the private, wants more time like this or, if they do move public, taking it slow, nothing extravagant. Wants to focus on Eren, mostly. Wants to keep this for himself.

            Levi clears his throat. Sits up, feels Eren watching him with something like mild worry, discomfort. “I just want to get to know you. We can do that however you’d like.” Isn’t sure whether placing the decision in Eren’s hands is courageous or cowardly; however, he’s decided that Eren’s making himself more vulnerable than Levi is. He deserves to decide this.

            Eren looks too determined as he shifts so that they are sitting side-by-side, looking at each other, thighs touching. Reaches for one of Levi’s hands, holds it carefully. “I don’t want you to be bored or uncomfortable. We can date however you’d like; this doesn’t need to be unpleasant for you.”

            “That’s a two-way street, you know. Don’t ignore your comfort for mine.” A less childish _I asked first_ , but the sentiment remains.

            Eren sighs. “I prefer getting to know you like this. Quiet. Personal. Without pressure or expectations.”

            Levi nods. “So do I.”

            “Anything else you’d like to establish right now?”

            “Whatever you’d feel comfortable discussing.”

            “I like quiet dates like these, private or public. I enjoy being near you, and I like that we don’t have to feel pressured to do anything or talk if we don’t want to. We don’t have to put on a show, or anything.”

            Levi hums. “Me too. Any physical boundaries I should know about?”

            “I’m really only annoyed when I feel like someone’s treating me like I’m fragile. Can’t really think of anything specifically annoying or off-limits right now.”

            “I’ll keep that in mind.” He’s exhausted by their conversation, even as he feels stabilized, more confident about his standing with Eren. It’s clear, though, by the way Eren doesn’t draw him in closer, that their conversation isn’t quite over. Levi suppresses a groan, blinks slowly, trying to focus on the movement.

            “So. No extravagant dates, yet, then,” Eren confirms, Levi nodding. “Did you still want to do something tomorrow?”

            As much as Levi wants to, he isn’t sure that he wants to make his whole weekend about Eren, feels dangerously close to too much time as it is, despite Levi’s enjoyment. Considering the importance of their dates leaves him feeling like someone re-arranged his apartment without his permission.

            More than anything, Levi is achingly aware of Eren, the space he occupies, the weight of him on Levi’s couch. Knows he’s been around him too much already; he shouldn’t revel in Eren’s presence all weekend.

            Sighs. “I don’t think tomorrow is a good idea. We should wait a few days.”

            There’s a pause, and Levi almost feels apprehensive before he reminds himself that he doesn’t have to put up with anything he’s uncomfortable with, and that if the brat wants to force his hand, Levi can just—

            “Sure. I understand.” Eren smiles at Levi softly. “We should go slower.”

            “Yes.”

            “We can go out another time. Do you need me to leave right now? Is this too much?”

            Levi bites his lip. Eren’s presence isn’t overwhelming or uncomfortable, only unavoidable, and he wouldn’t mind being with him longer, but he also doesn’t want to keep him, interrupt his night. “I don’t mind. Do what you’re comfortable with.”

            Eren glances at the clock, then moves closer to Levi. “I can stay a little while longer.”

            Levi’s not sure who moves first, but he finds himself leaning against Eren, head just beside his shoulder, Eren tilted at an angle, moving so that he leans between the couch cushion and armrest. His arms are warm around Levi, making any slight discomfort worthwhile.  

            Establishing boundaries soothes Levi more than he expected, and he finds that he can drift into thoughtless quiet effortlessly, sinking back into Eren’s comfortable presence. Notices distantly that Eren is more focused on him than the show, wants, briefly, to toy with that, but the implications of noticing Eren’s focus are unappealing.

            “I should probably get going soon,” Eren murmurs as he kisses Levi’s neck.

            “Yup.” Levi tilts his head slightly, allows Eren’s affection. If it wasn’t so soft, it would feel smothering, slimy with implication, like uncleaned library computer keyboards. But this is Eren, his lips, and there’s something about the random affection that makes Levi’s throat ache.

            Eren pulls away; Levi leans back, separates them just enough to give him the opportunity to leave. “Thank you for washing my shirt.”

            “Thank you for coming over on short notice.”

            Eren grins at him. “No problem.”

            They both stand, Levi’s hands involuntarily finding themselves against Eren’s sides. “You’ll text me when you get back to your apartment?”

            “Yes.” Eren’s still grinning, warm and sweet, as he leans down, presses his forehead against Levi’s. Raises his hands, hovers them just over Levi’s neck. “Can I?”

            At Levi’s nod, Eren’s hands touch his skin, fingers brushing against his cheeks. Stares up into Eren’s eyes, anxiety prickling his nose, but there’s something in Eren’s gaze that keeps Levi’s eyes open, and, fuck, Eren’s lips look too nice. Levi wants to know who the hell made lips look that appealing because, logically, they probably shouldn’t look that nice, and he doesn’t even know what it means that they do look nice, can’t really articulate _why_ he finds them appealing, maybe it’s that they look soft, maybe it’s that he can remember how they move when Eren speaks—

            Despite staring at Eren’s lips, Levi doesn’t notice Eren’s soft laughter until he feels Eren shaking beneath his hands, his forehead, hears the hitch in his breath. His nose brushes against Levi’s, and Levi feels his face burn against Eren’s skin.

            Eren opens his mouth, more than likely to comment on Levi’s staring, and his eyes are still warm with amusement, but the pause is filled with a sudden, bizarre seriousness, like an ice cube in a cup of hot tea.

            “Levi.” His thumbs brush slow, nonsensical lines against his skin.

            Leans closer, lips barely brushing Eren’s. It’s probably too late to ask for permission to kiss him when they’re this close, but he asks anyway, murmuring it against his lips, and it feels a little ridiculous, but Eren whispers “yes,” and it doesn’t feel quite so ridiculous. Eren’s lips are warm against his, and Levi feels like he missed a step walking down a staircase.

            The kiss is nice, better when one of Eren’s hands slips into Levi’s hair. He pulls away when Eren starts trying to deepen the kiss; Eren doesn’t demand another kiss, simply sighs softly and keeps his eyes closed, while Levi stares at his face, bemused.

            “I should get going,” Eren murmurs.

            Neither one of them moves.

            “Probably.”

            “You shouldn’t have kissed me then,” Eren teases.

            “I do one nice thing for you, and this is how you thank me.”

            Eren opens his eyes, beams at Levi. “Thank you, darling Blossom Butt, for the spectacular first kiss.”

            “Tch.” Levi pulls away from Eren, embarrassed at the blatant sarcasm. “Don’t push it.”

            “Levi.” His voice is too serious, and Levi looks up at him. Eren leans down, kisses his forehead, his nose. Hovers over his mouth, and, when Levi doesn’t pull away, kisses him lightly on the lips.

            “Eren,” Levi begins, finds that he doesn’t have anything else to say, doesn’t know what would be appropriate to say in response. The sound of Eren’s name from Levi’s lips seems to incapacitate Eren.

            “I’ll go now.” Eren clears his throat. “Goodnight, Levi.”

            “Goodnight.”

            Eren leaves Levi’s apartment, shirt in hand. His smile too wide, awkward but joyful; however, Levi’s still standing in his living room, right where Eren left him, somewhat unwilling to move, and therefore not the best judge of awkwardness.

            His arms feel useless, hanging loosely by his sides, hands clenched. Cold. Suddenly, inexplicably, tired. Looks at the clock and wants to smack himself. _Inexplicably_ , his ass. It’s one in the morning, and he kept Eren late just to kiss him. After telling him they needed to wait before seeing each other again.

            _Pathetic_.

            Shakes his head, forces himself to move, grab his phone. He’ll wait for Eren’s text even though his eyes ache and he’d really rather sleep. Forces himself to go through the motions of preparing for bed, even though he’s preoccupied, wondering about Eren, thinking about the softness of his hands, lips.

            Checks his phone, disappointed to find nothing new.

            Crawls into bed, savoring the slide of cold sheets against his bare skin. His phone is beside him, on the nightstand, then in his hands, close to his face as he lays on his side. Checks his emails, turns his phone off, lays it down beside his head.

            (Remembers his mother mentioning something about keeping it away from his head at night, but he couldn’t care less right now, torn between sleep and alertness.)

            His phone buzzes.

            **Eren** : home safe :D

            Levi grins. Sniffs as he unlocks his phone, shifts to a more comfortable position.

            **Levi** : Good. Glad you made it.

            **Levi** : Sorry I kept you late.

            **Eren** : don’t apologize i would’ve stayed later if you asked

            **Eren** : for the record im never going to regret kissing you

            Levi raises his eyebrows, bites his lip. Wonders whether he ought to respond in kind, with his own truthful vulnerability, whether it would be too forward.

            _He’s practically asking for it. If he’s uncomfortable, that’s his problem._

 **Levi** : The feeling’s mutual.

            **Eren** : do you think it’ll be okay to kiss you again the next time i see you?

            **Levi** : Probably.

            (He doubts something terrible enough would happen the day of their date that Levi would actively loathe the thought of kissing Eren. All the same, he’d rather be prepared.)

            **Eren** : sounds good, i’ll look forward to it

            **Eren** : bout to go to bed, goodnight, Levi

            **Eren** : thank you for tonight and yesterday, again

            **Eren** : it meant a lot to me

            **Levi** : No problem. You deserve to be taken care of. Sleep well.

            **Eren** : you deserve to be taken care of too, you know

            Levi doesn’t know what to say to that, too focused on the burning in his chest. Doesn’t want to consider it, doesn’t know how to deal with someone saying that directly to him and meaning it. His platonic mates aren’t neglectful by any stretch of the imagination, but they know him. They’ve all built their trust and comfort, earned the right to take care of each other.

            Eren is going out of his way to care for someone like Levi. Someone old and awkward and completely wrapped up in his mates and his job. Socially acceptable, but what worth does that have when Levi just wants to be there for Eren, have some semblance of a respectable relationship before it’s gone.

            What business does Eren have, wasting his time with that? With _him_?  

            **Eren** : i will fight you about this

            **Eren** : not this second because sleep

            **Eren** : but don’t you dare try to fight me because you will lose, levi

            **Levi** : I get it, brat. Go to sleep before you work yourself up.

            **Eren** : goodnight, levi

            **Levi** : Goodnight, Eren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last aot episode Wrecked me im drowning my emotions in aot junior high to cope


	10. cover me in rag and bone sympathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this has a lot of tea in it because tea is life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Sorrow by The National

            Hanji leaves the day after Sunday for a conference lasting two weeks. They’ve been talking about it for months, and Levi’s tried to pay attention the first few times they shouted about it. You’d think after their nonstop planning and jabbering, Levi wouldn’t have been surprised to wake up to an alert on his phone and Isobel and Farlan bickering about taking care of Hanji’s plants.

            For whatever reason ( ~~Eren~~ ), Levi is surprised when he wakes to the texts and calendar alert. His shock melts fast, and he’s rushing through his morning routine with familiar speed, Hanji having dragged him to impromptu shitfests countless times. He traipses out of his apartment building and into theirs with little awareness to the spaces between, the trees and sidewalks and people blurs of haste and familiarity, like the blandness of repetitive comfort cereal.

            He thumps his fist harshly against their door, achingly aware of the present as his hand smarts, the knocks loud to his ears; he knows, though, that they sleep deep and late, inexcusable.

            Hanji’s apartment building is nicer than the state of their apartment, meaning the other residents will not interfere unless Levi continues making a racket. Normally, he finds their snide inability to socialize unless absolutely required understandable if not aggravating (judgmental silences infinitely harder to tolerate than neutral); however, today, he is thankful for their guaranteed silence.

            Their door opens in five minutes, Hanji standing on the other side with their hair in one of the messiest ponytails Levi’s ever seen, wearing one sock, a white shirt with old coffee stains, and their favorite striped boxers.

            Levi doubts they slept that night, probably spent it researching instead, and his scowl deepens as they walk backwards, silently inviting Levi inside.

            “You need to take better care of yourself,” Levi scolds as he makes his way to their bedroom and yanks their suitcase out from under their bed.

            Hanji yawns and leans against the dresser. “Good morning to you too, short-stack.”

            “Don’t sass me; I’m saving your incompetent ass.” Gently, he motions for them to move away from their dresser. They comply with a wry smile, patting Levi on the back while he opens the top drawer.

            “You know, the beach incident only happened once, and it’s not like—”

            Levi doesn’t stop carefully selecting clothing from the drawer, only pausing in his mission to close it and move on to the next, even as he interrupts them. “The beach incident was the worst, but that doesn’t mean you don’t fuck up every goddamn time you pack anything.”

            “I’ve never once forgotten anything important for a conference.”

            “Clothing is important. Underwear is important. Shampoo and conditioner and toothpaste and a toothbrush and a hairbrush—those are also important.”

            Hanji rolls their eyes playfully. “I can buy all of that at a store if I need to.”

            Levi lets his hands hesitate, looks up at them with as much aggravation and annoyance as physically possible.

            They chuckle and ruffle his hair. “I’m gonna go make us some tea.”

            Levi shakes his head and returns to packing. Selects and folds their clothes, stacking them in neat piles on their rumpled bedding, resisting the urge to make their bed for them. He selects clothing he knows is comfortable and looks decent, knowing full well Hanji will mismatch outfits hideously, but he’s given them the opportunity to look nice, at least.

            Packing has never taken Levi terribly long; however, he likes to get it finished quickly, knows he must get them clean too. He’s halfway finished when Hanji returns to their bedroom, steam swirling like soft music above the mugs. Accepts his special mug from Hanji’s hands with a grateful nod, takes a break to drink together.

            “Isobel says she’ll take care of my plants this time,” Hanji says when their mugs are half empty.

            Levi scoffs. “I’m surprised they finished bickering so quickly.”

            “I’ll be leaving my key in the same place, just so you know.”

            “Why’re you telling me?”

            Hanji grins at him, a knowing gleam in their eyes that makes Levi uncomfortable. It’s an unspoken not-secret that Levi takes care of their plants whenever they leave, but they all know Levi doesn’t like his efforts acknowledged. Hanji’s always ignored how their apartment always seems a little cleaner when they return—not that it’s actively messy, mind you, just a little disorderly—and Levi’s thankful. Knows as well as anyone with sense that Hanji’s excitable moods are less exhibitions of uncontrolled eccentricity and more the awkward, oozing result of trust. That this purposeful silence is just as controlled as their excitement.

            All the same, Levi thinks they ought to tone it down more often, controlled or not.

            Hanji clears their throat. “You wrap up my shoes again, Levi? You don’t even know which ones I’m wearing.”

            Levi glares as they pout. “You know damn well worn shoes shouldn’t mix with clean clothes. You’ll wear the ones by the door.”

            Hanji only nods absently, sits on the floor and leans against the wall, alternating between watching Levi, drinking, and staring at nothing. Levi quickly downs the rest of his tea and finishes packing.

            They’ve fallen asleep when Levi finishes, and he gently takes their suitcase and places it near the front door, moves their body onto their bed. Allows them to nap for two hours, carefully tidying their apartment as they sleep. Grumbles here and there, but does his best to keep quiet; sometimes, Hanji wakes at the smallest sounds, other times they sleep through Farlan shouting at the TV.

            Two hours pass quickly, Levi soon finding himself dragging them out of bed and shoving food in their face, waiting for them to eat impatiently.

            He makes sure they take a long shower, knowing full well they’ll just go to the airport and get disgusting again, but he can’t guarantee that they’ll shower later. He’s aggressively thankful to not be the one stuck at airports all day tomorrow.

            Eventually, they both skirt the edges of mutual aggravation, Levi snapping at nothing, Hanji forcefully pushing their exuberance too far. He knows they’re trying to get him to stop hovering without acknowledging his behavior, but he hates this part of their routine, the way they try to make Levi’s guilt lessen, make him ignore the fact that they’ll miss each other.

            Levi hates that his mates treat him like this, sometimes, like he can’t handle direct acknowledgement, and then Hanji asks him if he needs a goodbye hug, and Levi storms out of their apartment, taking extra care to slam the door.

            “Love you too,” they shout, unaccompanied by their usual cackles, and Levi’s toes feel uncomfortably crowded in his shoes.

~~~

            When he returns home, Levi knows he needs to vacuum tomorrow. Much as he likes a clean apartment, the act of cleaning ranges anywhere from extremely boring and tiring to pleasing, and he’s caught at the former. He can feel something like apathy settle between his fingers. His toes curl into the carpet; he’ll vacuum tomorrow evening.

            **Isobel** : Cuddle session tonight?

            **Farlan** : I’m free if y’all are.

            Levi rolls his eyes at Farlan’s text, belatedly remembering that they usually cuddle Sunday nights, that they're all available. Sits on his couch, turns on the TV, halfheartedly paying attention to an episode of Seinfeld. Plays along, though they'd given up pretending they had plans years ago. 

            **Levi** : I’m free too. Where?

            He sets his phone down and sinks into a semi-comfortable slouching position, half-curled against the armrest. Feels his phone vibrate a few times, but the phone screen isn’t in his line of vision, and he’d rather wait for them to settle down before moving.

            His apartment is half-dark, the only light coming from his kitchen and the flickering screen before him. He likes the muted light, likes the way he’s forced to pay attention to the annoyingly comforting sitcom, the way he feels the couch around him, warm and soft, familiar.

            Reaches for his phone at the next commercial break. Ignores the ads begging for his money and attention, finds himself slightly irritated because instead of avoiding Farlan and Isobel chattering in their group chat, he finds that Hanji and Eren were the ones blowing up his phone.

            He opens Isobel and Farlan’s group chat first.

            **Isobel** : I’ve had a shitty weekend; can it be my place?

            **Farlan** : Sounds good.

            **Levi** : Fine with me.

            **Isobel** : Thanks guys. See you at seven?

            Farlan sends a thumbs-up emoji instantly, and Levi lets his silence serve as confirmation.

            Hanji texted him their flight details, and he winces in sympathy. Their first flight leaves at six-thirty in the morning, and they have a long layover. He doesn’t send anything in response, though, only takes a deep breath and opens Eren’s message.

            It’s a picture of a hamster in a hamster ball.

            Levi scrunches his nose, mouth sour. He’s never liked hamsters, and this one doesn’t even look cute.

            **Eren** : armin has the cutest hamster her name is Tulula and she loves carrots

            Before Levi can consider whether he wants to respond, Eren sends him a small video of it running in the ball, the clip ending with Eren laughing.

            Levi sets his phone down, then picks it up and puts Eren on Do Not Disturb. His heart is still racing from the brief bit of laughter, but the rodent looked pathetic in the video. He finds that he doesn’t have any desire to fake interest in this, so he won’t. Glances at the clock, finds he has a few hours before he needs to go to Isobel’s.

            Sets an alarm for six. Allows himself to fall asleep somewhere between insurance ads and bad laugh tracks.

~~~

            Levi arrives to find Farlan making tea as Isobel sits at their kitchen island, crying.

            He shares a look with Farlan, ignoring the urge to hug Isobel. The only time she does not like being touched at all is when she cries, which is difficult for Levi because the only way he feels comfortable reacting to her crying is through touch. Her comfort matters more than his, though, so he merely stands beside her, looks at Farlan.

            “Do you want me to ignore it and be quiet, or do you want to talk about what happened?”

            Farlan looks at Isobel, and she shrugs. He clears his throat and returns his attention to Levi. “We tried to look at another house today.”

            “Oh.”

            “It seemed promising, but we aren’t able to negotiate anything unless we magically get rich or decide to have kids.”

            Levi nods slowly. They’ve been struggling with this for years. Neither of them wants to live in an apartment, but it’s ridiculously impossible to buy a house if you’re not rich or childless.

            No one says anything as Isobel’s crying fades into awkward silence. They let her breathing deepen, slow and nice. This is the only nice part about Isobel crying, watching her recover. It compels Levi to follow suit, pay attention to his breathing. Farlan quietly gives them tea and stands on the other side of Isobel.

            Levi sips his tea as she leans against Farlan, hands wrapped around her mug. Guilt overwhelms him as he sits in silence, stares at the island countertop. He’d been goofing off with Eren yesterday while Isobel and Farlan probably looked at houses online. He could’ve spent yesterday helping. Isobel doesn’t cry like this if they haven’t looked at the house extensively beforehand. Maybe he would’ve noticed details they hadn’t.

            Of course, he knows that his presence wouldn’t have done that much good, and he’s never actually researched houses before, with them or alone. The social requirements of living in a house are well-known. The past is the past, but he also knows he could’ve been a better mate, and he wonders if it was worth it. If seeing Eren, holding him, was worth this.

            (Knows, privately, that if Isobel and Farlan can’t get a house, Levi and Eren shouldn’t even bother looking at houses. In the future. If they even last that long.)

            Farlan’s random dinner yesterday makes more sense, though. Levi hopes he made Farlan feel a little better.

            “I’m ready to cuddle if you guys are,” Isobel says, interrupting Levi’s thoughts.

            Their mugs are empty even though he can’t remember any of them drinking the tea; he only nods blankly as they walk to the bedroom.

            Isobel lays on the bed first, partially the result of a mutually unspoken decision that Farlan and Levi will surround her tonight. Isobel’s back presses against Levi’s chest comfortably; Farlan faces Isobel, presses his forehead against hers, one hand on her cheek, thumb caressing just under her eye. Their legs tangle together, and Levi wraps an arm around Isobel’s waist, rests his forehead against her neck. Closes his eyes.

            There is little movement in this cuddle session. Occasionally, Levi can hear Farlan kiss Isobel. Levi focuses mostly on his own breathing, the feeling of Isobel pressed against him. He doesn’t quite fall asleep, but his awareness of his surroundings slips into a haze. Isobel becomes merely touch, Farlan sound. They haven’t turned on a comfort show this time; only the sounds of breathing and Farlan’s quiet words of reassurance and praise occupy spaces their bodies cannot.

            “Everything will be alright,” Farlan says. Levi thinks it’s been close to an hour since he heard his voice clearly, but he isn’t sure. It’s the first thing Farlan’s said that makes Levi feel like his mouth is coated in microwave popcorn butter.

            Isobel snorts but doesn’t rebuke him. One of her hands caresses Levi’s, their fingers intertwined against her stomach. “We’ll move on, you mean.”

            “Pun,” Levi mutters, kissing the back of Isobel’s neck.

            Farlan coughs laughter. It sounds painful, restrained, but it lightens the mood.

            Levi clears his throat. “You are a valid couple.” _No matter what anyone says_.

            Isobel sniffles.

            When no one says anything, Levi continues. “Kids are gross. Messy, annoying, demanding. Their hands are always sticky.”

            “They’re… nice, from a distance,” Isobel replies.

            “They look nice until they start screaming.”

            “It’s usually valid screaming. Valid but annoying.”

            “Kids get to do what grownups don’t,” Farlan interrupts. “When’s the last time you threw a tantrum at the store and the only thing people did was stare?”

            Levi shakes his head. “If I started screaming and wailing, I’m pretty sure someone would try to call the cops.”

            “You do have a scary face,” Isobel teases.  

            Levi hears Farlan pulls away slightly from Isobel and maneuvers himself so that he hovers over them, looking at them with fond amusement. “How is a house a guaranteed good-parent environment when they’d have someone like Levi cussing up a storm, anyways?”

            “I definitely wouldn’t stop cussing if you had kids,” Levi says. “I also wouldn’t shit bricks if you had a son that played with dolls, though, so.”

            “Hmm, cussing, or forcing harmful gendered stereotypes on our children… Farlan, I can’t possibly decide which would be worse.”

            Farlan laughs, and Levi hides a grin against the collar of Isobel’s shirt, thankful that his teasing lightened the mood.

            There’s a light pause, then Isobel speaks again. “For the record, in all seriousness, I’d much rather have you cuss and let our son have dolls than the other way around.”

            “Well thank fuck for that.”

            There’s another pause, but this silence is nothing like before, light and soft and warm. Not heavy, like a comforting winter blanket. Conversation isn’t muffled in favor of silent, private healing. Levi opens his eyes, sees more than hears Farlan speak again.

            “I think Levi helped them earlier,” Isobel replies.

            Levi blinks, stares up at Farlan’s features. They’re pretty, so open and affectionate. Hums. “I made sure they had their shit together.”

            “We’ll probably take them out for dinner once they get back,” Isobel muses, disentangling their fingers so she can stroke Levi’s arm. “They’ll probably have a lot to talk about.”

            Levi falls silent again, content to listen to Isobel and Farlan continue the conversation. Once they reach another natural lull, Levi gently pulls away, checks the time. Almost cusses when he sees that it’s close to ten, and he’s certain none of them have eaten dinner.

            He crawls off the bed, turning to glare at them. “If either of you leave the bed for any reason besides shitting, I’ll leave.”

            “Oh Farlan, you hear that, he’s ordering us to stay in bed.” Isobel waggles her eyes at Farlan, smirks.

            Levi does not sputter indignantly. “If I catch you two doing that, I’ll never speak to you again.”

            Farlan laughs and pulls Isobel close, sinking into the bed and moving so that she’s the big spoon. “Yes, sir.”

            Levi does not speed-walk into the kitchen, and his cheeks are definitely not a little warm as he begins reheating leftover pizza. Checks his phone while he waits, finds that he has eight new messages from Eren. Five are pictures of the hamster doing basically the same thing as earlier but from different angles.

            **Eren** : she is beauty she is grace

            The next message was sent ten minutes later.

            **Eren** : wait do you not like hamsters fuck im sorry

            The next, an hour later.

            **Eren** : i’m sorry if i bothered you.

            Levi readily admits that he doesn’t know much about current texting lingo, but he knows enough to interpret his last message as a mixture of contrite, offended, and distant. It almost feels like Eren wants this to spiral into a fight. The difference in style bothers Levi more than it should, feels less like an expression of Eren’s feelings and more provoking. Finds himself annoyed at caring so much about little texts from Eren, their relationship insignificant compared to Isobel and Farlan, compared to their issues. It feels disrespectful, and Levi’s heart hurts at the thought of spitting on his mates’ issues by caring about Eren’s text.

            He feels little remorse for turning off his phone without replying. Tries not to think about Eren as he continues waiting for the pizza, as he takes it out and portions it accordingly, as he walks back to the bedroom and Isobel and Farlan sit up and stare at Levi lovingly. Grab their servings, then scoot away from each other, silently demanding Levi sit between them.

            Isobel nuzzles Levi, while Farlan kisses his forehead. The three of them lean against each other as they eat. This is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind leaving their paper plates in a pile, instead continuing to sit together. One of Levi’s arms around Farlan’s waist, the other around Isobel’s, heads pressed together. Their arms wrap around him, and he shivers, overwhelmed, quietly happy.

            They stay like this for little under an hour before Levi pulls away again, this time to leave for the night. Isobel, exhausted and ready to sleep, sloppily kisses his cheek and immediately gets under the covers.

            Levi snorts affectionately and ruffles her hair before leaving the bedroom, Farlan trailing behind him.

            “Thank you for being here.”

            “You don’t need to thank me,” Levi replies.

            He knows that Farlan needed him just as much as Isobel, even if he hadn’t been crying openly earlier. Stands on the tips of his toes, presses a kiss against Farlan’s forehead. Hovers briefly over his lips before kissing them quickly.

            “See you soon,” Levi says as he opens their door.

            “See you. Love you.”

            Levi nods. “You too.” Closes the door behind him quietly.

            Returning to his apartment, Levi finds he left the TV on. Seinfeld is still playing, and he scoffs softly as he holds the remote but doesn’t change the channel or turn it completely off. Decides to leave it on and makes his way to the kitchen, briefly self-conscious for craving another cup of tea, then dismissing the notion of embarrassment completely.

            He pulls his phone out as he heats the water, turns it on and finds that Eren hasn’t texted him.  

            (Knows, in the back of his mind, that he could just stop replying altogether. Drop all contact, melt into some random guy he talked to for a little while, insignificant. Stop this before it can begin, as though it hasn’t already begun.)

 **Levi** : Hamsters are rats. Today was busy.

            **Levi** : I’m not in the mood to talk. Tomorrow?

            He stares blankly at his phone until the water is ready. Stares blankly at the wall once his tea begins steeping. Stares blankly at the trash after he throws the sachet away. The phone vibrates as he takes his first sip.

            **Eren** : sure. hope i didn’t annoy you today

            **Eren** : sleep well and have a good day tomorrow!

            Levi puts his phone down, knows logically that he cares about Eren’s pleasant response, but there’s a weight on his shoulders and his chest hurts. He watches the microwave clock crawl from midnight to two, two to four, four to six. Exhaustion settles under his skin like sand, but he doesn’t feel like moving. Enjoys that his eyes burn, that the only movement he participates in is blinking, breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1- if you're wondering, the packing incident levi refers to is one where him and hanji decided to go to the beach as a fuck-it kind of thing, and hanji just didnt pack anything. didn't think of it just was like yo let's go while levi has like two bags and a suitcase. so levi figures it out halfway there and he's like dude!!!! (they're waiting at an airport aunt annies and he got like three hours of sleep the night before so he's not fully awake) you forgot your stuff! and they're like lol whoops oh well ill just buy clothes from walmart and levi almost facepalms... then they get there and there isn't a walmart near and levi almost wails 
> 
> 2- i'm gonna be going through what i've written so far, which means there may be little edits in previous chapters, or i might add more scenes. idk yet, but i want to refresh myself. i'll let you know what changes i make in the next update


	11. and I need new skin for this old skeleton of mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yo, didn't mean to take two months + off, but my personal life went south (ha) so... this is later than i wanted, but it's also a really important chapter? 
> 
> there were minimal edits to previous chapters, but nothing serious enough to merit absolutely necessary re-reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Head On by Man Man

            Sleep settles between his shoulder blades softly, sometime past seven in the morning, lasts barely an hour before he hears rain, finds that the sky is dark and he is late for work.

            He hasn’t had an episode like this in a few years; his sleeping patterns have improved with time and medication, but he remembers how to take care of himself. Though part of him recoils at the thought, he decides to call in sick. Knows better than to power through a workday.

            His skin feels slippery like butter, but he forces himself to leave the kitchen and skip a shower, heading instead to the third bedroom he’d converted into an office with a treadmill facing the large window. Turns on the treadmill, comfort already filling his mouth as he begins walking, running.

            Levi loses track of time as he exercises, staring out the window and listening to the rhythm of his feet, only stops when he knows he cannot continue. He returns to the kitchen and forces himself to eat a protein bar, unwrapping it as he leans against the cabinets, elbow pressed against the cold countertop. The chill of the countertop pushes through his elbow, past his shoulder, resting against his tongue like half-melted ice. His phone rests in his other hand, and he grips it tightly, thinking about his recent conversation with Eren.

            Thinks about their recent visit. Thinks about Eren knowing his name, the way it feels to kiss him, knowing that Levi is, on some level, vulnerable. That Levi is giving himself to this relationship, regardless of anything he’s said, regardless of the ever-present unspecified but by no means uncertain expiration date.

            He wants to give himself to Eren, Levi realizes. It doesn’t matter that they won’t last, that they aren’t soulmates. Levi isn’t one to do things by halves, and Eren isn’t someone he wants to give half-truths and empty platitudes. He won’t give all of himself, but there are things he can do, truths worth exposing.

            Whether the effort of exposing them is worth Levi’s time is uncertain. Levi already feels himself slipping into familiarity with Eren too quickly. It unnerves him how certain Eren seems, how easy it’s been.

            (Knows, objectively, that the beginnings of relationships are often softer, rosier, like new sweatpants. Knows—but they aren’t mates. Easy should be nonexistent; this comfort, gone. Fake.)

            His phone buzzes. Eren.

            Maybe Levi’s been drugged? Lulled into a false sense of security, tricked into vulnerability? Perhaps his sanity flees the second he’s away from his mates, like some stupid television romantic.

            **Eren** : i hope today goes better!

            **Eren** : if you’re up for it, i have some free time later, maybe we could talk?

            **Eren** : only if you’re doing okay, tho, don’t stress if things are bad

            Levi sighs. Knows that regardless of whether they speak, he’ll think about Eren all day. Ruminate over the past few days until there’s nothing left of himself except anxiety and unwelcome yearning.

            If his mates couldn’t distract him from Eren, there was little hope for Levi, alone, exhausted.

            **Levi** : That works. I’m free all day.

            **Eren** : no work?

            **Levi** : Called in sick.

            Pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Glances at the clock, finishes another bar and pushes himself away from the counter.

            **Levi** : Needed a mental health day.

            Eren’s reply comes a few minutes later, Levi having already left the kitchen and entered the bathroom. Stripped, feeling somewhat self-conscious standing naked beside his phone, as if Eren can see him. It feels sacrilegious, staring at himself in the mirror, body on full display, marks completely exposed as he waits for Eren’s reply.

            As he turns on the shower, his phone buzzes. Sighs as he walks away from the water, skin protesting the delay.

            **Eren** : take care of yourself! mental health is important and you deserve to take a day and help yourself recover

            **Eren** : if it helps not to talk to me, let me know and i can leave you alone for the day, no worries

            Levi looks at the shower, then his phone. The front camera on his phone covered by his thumb as he bites his lip, considers. Considers ignoring Eren and showering. Considers again whether it’s a good idea to invite further conversation with the reason he needs a mental health day.

            **Levi** : It doesn’t bother me.

            **Eren** : you sure?

            **Levi** : Do I seem uncertain?

            **Eren** : no. doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be weird to talk to me tho. i know this is weird for you

            Levi turns off the shower, grimaces slightly as he sits on the floor and leans against the wall. His chest feels warm and tight; “weird for you,” like it isn’t weird for Eren, like Levi is completely alone.

            **Eren** : this freaks you out a little bit, doesn’t it?

            _A little_. ~~~~

            His head hurts; he isn’t sure his bluntness is desirable here. Though, perhaps, Eren might appreciate it. 

            **Levi** : Honestly?

            _I barely slept last night._

_I saw your name in my phone yesterday, and it made me feel sick._

            **Eren** : yeah?

            **Levi** : I don’t understand any of this.

            **Eren** : do you want to figure it out? or do you want to call it quits and stop?

            **Eren** : because we can, you know

            **Eren** : you’re not forced to put up with me cause i’m pretty, esp if it’s affecting your mental health

            **Levi** : That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what to do here. I’ve never done this before.

            **Eren** : neither have i. you don’t need to know what to do

            Levi closes his eyes, tilts his head back against the wall. Mutters _fucking piece of shit_ , voice rough against the wall, cold floor tiles. _Of course I need to know what to do._

            Turns on the shower again, ready to step in when his phone buzzes. Wants to ignore it, but his hands are warm, fingertips expectant as he unlocks the screen, stares at the new message.

            **Eren** : gotta go, call you after? should be two, three hours

            **Levi** : Sure.

            He sets his phone down. Feels like he’s been sighing constantly as he steps into the shower, allows himself to be engulfed in warmth as he scrubs away sweat, grime, butter-skin. The conversation with Eren sinks into the drain with dilapidated soap suds. His eyes sting; his mouth full of imagined conversation.

~~~

            Despite Eren’s interruption (the eager anxiety of their upcoming conversation, the anticipation of Eren’s voice), Levi continues his self-care routine seamlessly, scrubbing the bathtub clean after his shower, lighting candles, finding his lavender bath salts.

            Pulls up Spotify as he waits for the tub to fill, the flickering candlelight soothing as he finds his Joséphine Baker playlist, puts it on shuffle.

            Her voice never fails to soothe him; he sinks into the warm-hot water languidly, mouth tingling. Stares at the candles, allows himself to focus on the sensations. Allows an hour, an hour and a half, to pass with little concern, only exiting the bath once the lukewarm water irritates him.

            He dries off slowly, first towel-drying his legs, then arms, ties the towel around his waist and splashes water on his face. Stares at his nose in the mirror, admires the sharpness of his face, the grey of his eyes. Wonders if Eren considers Levi’s face as much as he considers Eren’s.

            His cheeks are flushed, now. The ghost of a grin scrunches his lips, his teeth aching as he keeps a straight face.

            Eren, considering Levi carefully.

            Eren, thinking about him randomly.

            Eren, preoccupied.

            Levi snorts. Ridiculous, to be so flustered by that—Eren’s very nature screams preoccupied. He’s probably the type to get distracted for hours by someone’s cute dog or an attractive stranger or a beautiful flower or the way the sunlight hits tree leaves if he tilts his head slightly.

            Instead of tugging on comfortable sweatpants, Levi remains naked as he strides into his kitchen, shifting his playlists from Joséphine to baking. Having already stopped by the grocery store last week, he finds himself well-stocked for spontaneous baking (tries to always be ready just in case).

            Limits himself to what can barely be considered dancing (but can’t be considered stillness or walking or, heaven forbid, jumping) as he begins making cherry pie. He does not mouth the lyrics to certain songs, and there is little bopping or head-banging.

            Eren calls just as he slides the pie into the oven. Grabs his phone and sits on the ground, in front of the oven. Crosses his legs and answers with a too-casual “hello.”

            Eren doesn’t reply for a minute; when he does, he sounds breathlessly, amusingly befuddled. “Are you listening to Billy Idol?”

            Levi coughs, flustered by the question, flustered by Eren’s voice, soft even as it exudes excitement and exhaustion. Glares at his iPad as he gets up and exits out of Spotify. “No.”

            “You can’t fool me, Levi. I know what I heard.”

            Sinks back to the ground, embarrassed, heart racing. Hates other people hearing his music, hates how invasive it feels, hates that he forgot to pause it before answering. “Are we going to talk, or are you going to spew shit?”

            Eren clears his throat. “Do you want to talk over the phone, or in person?”

            “In person might be best.” _So much for giving each other space. So much for waiting a few days._

            Levi can’t really bring himself to regret it, though. Knows they need to talk, even if he’s not fond of talking, would rather skirt around direct communication until absolutely necessary.

            “Okay. Um.”

            “Yes?”

            “When you were… aggravated, yesterday, I might have made soup? It’s just tomato soup, nothing fancy, but it always cheers me up when I’m not feeling well, and I thought, just in case, if you wanted some, I could make it. If you don’t, don’t worry about it, but—”

            Levi can’t stop the smile stretching across his face. “I can make grilled cheese sandwiches. If you want to bring some over.”

            Eren’s grin bleeds through the phone, drips down Levi’s ear, cheek, jaw. Caresses his throat. “That sounds amazing. Today was a long day.”

            “Wanna talk about it?”

            “Maybe later. See you in an hour?”

            “Sounds good.”

~~~

            Eren’s at his door. Levi barely hears him before he officially knocks, and he forces himself to not smile as he takes a step forward and realizes.

            He’s still naked.

            “Wait a sec,” he calls as he darts into his bedroom, throws on his favorite sweatpants and sweatshirt, embarrassed that he’d been too preoccupied about the pie and Eren coming over and wondering if the sandwiches will be enough and—

            And he opens the door, smothering his smile as he stares up at Eren’s face.  

            “Hello. May I come in?”

            Levi blinks. “Yeah. Yeah.” Steps aside, gratitude sharp on his shoulders. Hearing Eren say he made soup just in case was one thing, and it made him feel… appreciation, but seeing it in real life made it more intimate and sincere than he’d realized.

            “You didn’t have to do that you know.”

            Eren sets the two soup containers on the counter, shrugs. “If you didn’t want it, or there wasn’t an opportunity to give it to you, it was just more food for me.”

            “Still.”

            “I’m allowed to care about you, you know. And you’re allowed to care about me, if you’re comfortable.”

            They stand in the kitchen, avoiding direct eye contact. Eren clears his throat, and Levi flinches.

            Motions to the dining table, and they set the food down, sitting across from each other without beginning to eat. An awkward silence pervades the room before Levi rolls his eyes and grabs the nearest soup container.

            They eat in silence, continuing to avoid looking directly at the other. When they finish, Eren clears his throat and motions towards the couch. Levi follows him, keeping his eyes carefully away from Eren’s back, legs. Sighs as Eren hesitantly reaches for Levi’s hand.

            As Levi’s thumb brushes Eren’s knuckles, Eren coughs. “I’m serious. If your mental health is declining because of us, I won’t bother you ever again. We don’t have to continue.”

            It’s so much worse hearing Eren say that in person. Panic coats Levi’s throat; he shakes his head. “That’s not what I want.”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Positive.”

            Eren leans forward, kisses Levi’s forehead. “Do we need to change anything? Have we been moving too fast?”

            Levi shakes his head. Wants to be irritated that Eren keeps asking, then realizes that he’s never really answered the question directly, fully. “There’s nothing I can compare this to for reference. I can’t say if we’re moving too fast.”

            “This isn’t about what other people would consider too fast.” Eren’s free hand cups Levi’s jaw as confusion fills Levi. “This is between us, and our relationship is different from what you’re comparing it to. What do you feel? Do I need to back off?”

            Levi looks away from Eren without moving his head, his free hand rising to hold Eren’s against his face. Stares at the carpet, at nothing at all. It’s terrifying, realizing again that, no, Levi doesn’t want him to back off. Wants to continue like this, wants to discover how Eren seeps into the rest of his life.

            Wants Eren to meet Farlan and Isobel and Hanji, properly. Wants—

            Doesn’t realize until breathing feels like shaking an unopen soda can that he’s near tears.

            “No. You don’t need to back off.” Levi forces himself to look at Eren.

            Eren nods, nothing but warmth and acceptance in his features. He respects Levi’s vulnerability with a stubborn determination that makes Levi almost ashamed for not trusting him sooner. “I trust you to tell me when I do something that makes you uncomfortable. And you can tell me to back off if you change your mind.”

            Levi remembers waking up in Eren’s arms the first time, that soft morning, chuckles. “I trust you to do the same.”

            Eren nods again, this time, less certain. He bites his lip, speaks again after a minute of silence. “If it helps, you could think of this as practice.”

            _Oh, fuck_.

            Levi’s stomach hurts. “Practice?”

            “Yeah. For your mate. In the future.”

            _Oh._ Levi scrunches his nose. Has Eren been thinking like this the whole time? Yes, Levi has an obligation to his mate, but that doesn’t mean he’d waste his time with Eren like that. He removes his hand from Eren’s and cups Eren’s jaw. “You’re not practice. You’ll never be just practice.”

            There’s a split second where neither of them does anything, merely stares. Split second, then minute, then two minutes. Nothing—awkward silence, then, the quiver of Eren’s lip.

            Levi watches Eren’s eyes water, tears spilling over. “I thought…”

            He does nothing to silence Eren, nothing to wipe away his tears or suggest that he should stop. Knows that it’s best to let Eren have all the time he needs. Privately, Levi feels a chill that seeps past his skin, rattles his bones. He can’t help the horror that rises; although it makes sense that Eren would come to that conclusion, Levi hates that he did, hates that he indirectly validated it.

            Hates that he’d been selfish enough to assume that Eren wouldn’t be insecure, wouldn’t get anxious or concerned, just because Eren’s more comfortable with non-mate interactions.

            “Wouldn’t it be easier to leave me if you thought like that?” Eren continues. “Why would you do that to yourself? What about your mate?”

            “What about yours?”

            “I already told you I wouldn’t leave you for them. Not immediately, even if I did, but I don’t think I could do that. I don’t think I could leave you. I don’t want to.”

            Levi clears his throat. “I can’t give that back to you. I can’t; I have an obligation to my mate. Are you sure this is worth it? Am I worth it?”

            “Of course you are.” Eren glares at him, rubs his thumb in circles on Levi’s cheek. “I don’t want to leave you. I know you’re going to leave me, but I don’t want to leave you.”

            Levi nods. “You aren’t practice. You aren’t something to do while I wait for them. My obligation to them doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or value this.”

            Neither of them comments on the fact that Levi’s preference for his mate could devalue whatever worth he places on their relationship; Levi ignores the thought altogether, and Eren’s features only soften even as tears still coat Levi’s hand, Eren’s cheeks.

            Eren clears his throat. “Did you ever think of it as practice?”

            “No. Not practice,” Levi replies.

            “Was it really the hamster that bothered you?”

            “I don’t like them, but, no. That wasn’t it.” Levi clears his throat. “I spent the day with my mates, and I missed you. I didn’t know what to do with that.” _I wanted to tell them about you. I wanted you to spend time with us._

            Perhaps Levi preferred the rituals he shared with his mates to be limited to his mates, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t miss Eren, didn’t mean that it was limited to Eren. Hanji shouldn’t be involved in his cuddle sessions with Farlan and Isobel, just as they shouldn’t join Levi when he helps Hanji prepare for trips, takes care of them, makes sure they’re feeding themselves and bathing properly. Eren doesn’t belong in those moments either, but someday, Levi wants Eren to have his own moments with them. (Then, understands that time with his mates and Eren simultaneously suggests far more than a relationship with an expiration date, and can he do that to himself? To his mates?)

            But. It is too early to say that much, too early to let Eren know how little this feels like practice. Levi changes course, allows a different truth. “I can promise you that I’ll never disappear on you. I’ll never just walk away.”

            Eren’s laugh hurts Levi’s throat. “It would almost be easier if you did.”

            “I couldn’t do that to you unless you asked me.”

            Eren shakes his head, leans forward so that their foreheads touch. “I’d want to be with you for a little while before you did. I wouldn’t want you to disappear, even if it was better.”

            Levi clears his throat. “I don’t want to half-ass this. I want…” _to treat you like my mate._ At that thought, he feels his cheeks burn, and he wants to take it back as much as he wants to indulge the dangerous urge.

            Until this moment, Levi hadn’t considered that this relationship could hurt him, too. Not really, not fully, not this intimately.

            He decides words aren’t enough, especially when he can’t find the right ones. Pulls away slightly, and Eren looks concerned only for a second, because Levi comes crashing back, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, jaw, neck. He feels like he has no idea what he’s doing, kissing Eren like this, softly, reverently, but all Eren does is murmur his name, hold him closer, and his voice sounds so close to breaking that Levi’s heart clenches.

            “I’m sorry,” Levi mutters against his skin, hands resting on Eren’s sides. _I’m sorry for not treating you right. I’m sorry I focus on my mate. I’m sorry I made you think you were practice._

            “It’s okay, Levi. It’s okay.”

            Levi pulls away, realizes that he’s on Eren’s lap, pressing himself too close. Eren’s hands are on his hips, grounding him, and there’s a warmth in the light pressure of his splayed fingers. One hand pulls away, skims upward over his arm, shoulder, resting against his cheek. Levi tilts his head, kisses his palm.

            “I didn’t expect this,” Eren murmurs. “I expected…”

            “This doesn’t mean I’m not going to have anxiety about this. That there aren’t going to be bad days. I want you to know that I’m serious when I say I’ve decided that I’m not letting you go until I have to. I’ll remind you as much as you need.”

            Eren nods. “Thank you.”

            Levi says nothing, only leans forward, embracing Eren, tucking his head against Eren’s neck. Eren’s arms wrap around him securely, impossibly warm, strong and sure. Levi allows himself to accept this, closes his eyes and presses another kiss to his neck.

            Eren kisses his forehead again, mumbling his name against his hair.

      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't know what to expect from this chapter, but this wasn't it. i'm proud of this, though
> 
> i'm gonna try to be better about updating, but i am studying abroad in less than two weeks, so.


	12. tell me how to reach you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> progression, folks 
> 
> also! made it to another country safely! moved in and got this chapter out
> 
> i'll be modifying some details related to soulmates in the earlier chapters (meant to earlier, but i got distracted (by packing and whatnot and flying over, all that jazz); i should have things changed in the next few days. keep an eye out if you'd like, but i plan on including information about that in the next chapter notes should you not feel like traveling back to earlier chapters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Sea of Love by The National

           Levi doesn’t know when it begins, knows only that he’s been kissing Eren on his couch for some time, knows that it feels warm and soft, intimate. He surrounds Eren, feels his hands against his hips, face, neck, breath gentle against his face. It’s nicer than many kisses Levi’s had with non-mates; it’s probably the nicest non-mate kiss—after a little while, the thought dissolves completely. Tangled up in Eren, Levi doesn’t want to think about anyone else, finds that it’s nearly impossible once he lets himself blur into Eren-and-Levi, on his couch, pressed achingly close.

            They shift, carefully, to sit side-by-side. It’s a little uncomfortable, but their mouths are barely separated, lips bumping not uncomfortably on occasion, and the intimacy of Eren so close, wanting closer, shifting to get closer—Levi’s hands shake as they reach with equally stubborn determination, help Eren find a better position.

            “You okay?” Eren asks as they fall still, breathing against each other, one of Levi’s legs tucked beneath him, the other dangling on the other side of the couch. Eren mirrors him, and Levi can’t help but think that their legs are going to fall asleep soon. That won’t be comfortable; however, Levi doesn’t want to shift again, not yet.

            “Yeah,” Levi breathes more than speaks, and he would be embarrassed, but his voice caresses Eren’s lips, chin, and something about it satisfies him. “You?”

            Eren grins, ducks to mouth at his neck, and Levi feels himself flushing. He’s grateful when Eren only chuckles against his skin (and Levi can’t help but shudder, Eren’s voice low, scraping across his skin so smoothly it hurts his throat).

            “Eren,” Levi mutters after a minute. “Please. Stop.” Eren obeys, then pulls away too much, and Levi reaches forward, kisses him properly, embarrassed and satisfied simultaneously when Eren melts.

            They kiss until their legs fall asleep. Continue kissing even as their legs scream in protest, white noise pins-and-needles awkward static compared to the warmth in Levi’s stomach. The rest of his body is perfectly content with sitting like this forever, but he knows Eren feels the same pain. Guilt prompts him to pull away slowly, caress his face and press their foreheads together.

            Eren allows the pause, then sighs quietly, kisses Levi’s nose, cheek; Levi feels like he’s done something terrible, encouraging this much contact because neither of them really wants to move far away. Feels as though they can’t, ridiculous as the notion is.

            Levi hears his phone ringing, and Eren freezes, inhales sharply. Pulls away slowly, just enough to stop kissing him, enough to signal that he’ll allow Levi to make whatever decision he wants.

            His voice fills with gratitude as he tells Eren to stay put, grabbing his phone and pressing a kiss to Eren’s forehead before properly looking at his screen.

            Isobel’s calling. Levi bites his lip, wants to move away, give their conversation privacy, but remembers _you could think of this as practice_ , and he clears his throat. “I can stay. Here. If you’re okay with that.”

            Eren blinks. Levi can see remnants of tears on his face. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

            Levi nods, and they shift so that they sit shoulder-to-shoulder, Levi reaching for his hand, their fingers gently intertwining.

            “Hey, Is.”

            “Levi! They told me you weren’t at work today! Everything alright?”

            Levi huffs. HR workers always tell mates when someone calls in sick; romantic mates have no choice in the matter, but it’s optional for platonic mates. Isobel always pestered him about giving them access; sometimes, Levi wishes he hadn’t. “I’m fine. Just needed a day off.”

            “Stress?”

            “Yeah.”

            Isobel _hmms_ knowingly.  Levi coughs and looks at Eren, resolutely staring at the carpet.

            “I couldn’t sleep again.”

            “Avoiding bad dreams again or insomnia?”

            Eren glances at Levi, catches him already looking at him, but Levi’s embarrassment fades as he realizes that Eren heard her, realizes that he should’ve expected this, between Eren’s inquisitive invasiveness and Isobel’s loud voice. Raises an eyebrow at Eren, daring him to comment. Eren flushes but resolutely continues staring at Levi.

            Levi coughs again. “I’ll be at work again tomorrow. How was your day?”  

            Isobel sighs. “Only if you’re good to go. Take care of yourself.” She pauses, and Levi hears a microwave beeping. “It was good, long. Came home after work and realized I forgot to get groceries, had to go all the way to the store across from that one ice cream shop—you remember—and, of course, it was crowded, so I had to wait like fifteen minutes to get checked out because one of the families in front of me bought the whole cheese section.”

            “ _Really_?” Levi smirks, sinking back against the cushions. “The _whole_ cheese section.”

            “ _Yes_ , Levi, the _whole_ section,” Isobel replies, voice pleasantly lilting with familiar fond exasperation at his teasing.

            Eren laughs quietly, and Levi’s heart stops.

            Eren wasn’t quiet enough.

            Isobel hesitates, then, her voice is much softer. “Oh! Are you… Is that Farlan with you? I was wondering why he wasn’t home yet, but I can leave you two alone…”

            Levi’s breathless, anxious, embarrassed, words much less smooth than he prefers as he finally answers. “Um. He’s. That’s not what’s going on.”

            “Your relationship with him doesn’t make you a bad mate, you know.” Her voice is too gentle; she thinks it’s one of _those_ days, where Levi’s depression takes control, tugs him to the ground and reminds him that his romantic mate probably doesn’t want him, that he’s not good enough to meet them. “We all found each other at difficult times. You saw me at my worst and still loved me.”

            Eren stands, walks to the kitchen. Runs a hand through his hair, and Levi’s stomach clenches. He’s grateful for Isobel’s words, embarrassed at the familiarity of the routine they’ve developed. They’ve always been good at that, cheering each other up, providing comfort on the bad days, but Levi doesn’t know how to correct her assumption.

            “Wait. Hold on, got a text.” There’s a moment of silence, then: “Levi. Farlan isn’t there, is he?”

            Levi closes his eyes, tilts his head down. “No. He’s not.”

            “Levi,” she sounds too disappointed, too resigned. “I thought you stopped those one-night-stands.”

            “I did.” His free hand covers his eyes, elbow uncomfortable against his knee. “This isn’t… This is… I’m taking this seriously.”

            “Taking _what_ seriously? Levi, I thought you and Farlan had a good thing going. Why’d you go get someone else?”

            “This has nothing to do with me, or Farlan. It’s about him.”

            Isobel sighs. “I can’t have this conversation right now; Farlan’s almost home.”

            “Right. Dinner, here, tomorrow? Both of you? I can talk about it more then.”  

            “Yeah. Sounds good.” Her voice is tight, tired, and he knows she’s rubbing her forehead, her nose wrinkled. It’s cute, when it isn’t directed at him. “‘Night, Levi. Glad you’re okay.”

            “‘Night. I am. Better.”

            “Good. Love you.”

            Levi all but wilts, grateful and ashamed; he knows ending with that means she’s still there, she’s not leaving, and he almost hates that she knew he needed that. “Love you too.”

            She ends the call, and Levi locks his phone, sets it on the side table. Glances at Eren in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge, staring blankly at the countertop. Levi can’t read Eren, only sees careful nonchalance, the bitter aftertaste of aggravation.

            _I want to take a bath_. Levi winces. _You can’t just want to take a bath every time something difficult happens, nitwit._

            “Everything alright with your mate?” Eren’s controlled tone makes Levi’s skin crawl. Childishly, he wishes he could rewind, keep them trapped in earlier moments of comfort, together, on his couch.

            “Yeah.”

            Levi stands and makes his way to the kitchen, standing beside Eren, facing him. Stares at the same spot as Eren. Faintly, Levi can smell lavender and the soft, generic scent of moisturizer. He wants to touch Eren, doesn’t know what’s appropriate anymore. It feels like Eren broke something in Levi, scaled some wall he didn’t know he had only to leave him bereft.

            “I didn’t want her to hear me.”

            “I know,” Levi replies. _Look at me, damn it._ “I’m going to tell them about us. Tomorrow.” _If that’s okay. If that’s not too much for you._

“Would you tell them tomorrow if she hadn’t figured out you weren’t with Farlan?”

            “Not… Tomorrow… But yes, I would’ve told them at some point. Soon.” _You aren’t doing a great job convincing him that this isn’t practice._

            Eren won’t look at Levi, and it bothers him more than he’d readily admit. He wants to fix this, knows it will take more effort from him. Deciding it’s worth it, Levi stands in front of Eren, gently touching his chin and guiding his gaze away from the counter.

            “I wasn’t planning on telling her anything during that phone call, no, but I chose to have dinner with them tomorrow to explain things. I could’ve let her think… worse.”

            Eren allows his gentle touch, meets Levi’s gaze. “That I was one of ‘those’ one-night-stands?”

            Levi bites his lip, takes a deep breath. Shrugs. “When I was younger, I went through a phase. Clearly I don’t think of you like that.”

            “ _Clearly_ ,” Eren replies, and _oh_ , Levi’s fucked something up again.

            He rolls his eyes. “If you didn’t mean anything to me, I wouldn’t have tried to talk to you again. I didn’t choose to take you seriously because I only wanted sex from you. Besides, if I had wanted a one-night-stand, I wouldn’t have admitted it to Is. She doesn’t need another reason to worry.”

            “What are you going to tell them?”

            Levi presses his lips together. It’s his turn to look away; Eren doesn’t touch him or try to ground him, even though surely, he’s figured out that this is a sensitive subject for Levi, that he has next to nothing figured out, that all he knows is that, despite himself, he finds Eren familiar, warm. Something to treasure and protect and preserve. “I don’t know.”

            Eren shakes his head. “You care about this, and you value it, but you won’t talk about it? What am I supposed to call this? What are you going to call me?” There are tears in his eyes and the laugh he forces out of his throat is grotesque, thick. “I’m not an acquaintance. You can’t call me that.”

            “I wouldn’t.”

            “Well, then, what else is there to call me?” Eren’s raising his voice, nearly shouting at Levi.

            His rage tempers Levi. Keeps him angry without raising his voice. “It doesn’t matter what I call you.” He knows he shouldn’t, but he purposefully refuses to elaborate. Wants to see what Eren’s like when he’s pushed, wants to see where his limits are and who he is when he’s not trying to impress him.

            Eren clenches and unclenches his fists, takes a deep breath. “Of course it does!”

            “Not to my mates. They’d rather know what I feel about this than what I choose to call it.”

            “And are you planning on sharing that with me any time soon? Or do they get to know everything you think and feel about us before me?”

            Levi glares at Eren. “Those are my mates. I’m allowed to tell them things about you before you. Besides, if you stopped and thought before exploding, you’d remember that we’ve already discussed this.”

            “You’ve literally just told me that this isn’t practice, and that you value it. That’s it. That’s all. I don’t know what that means, I don’t know what you want it to mean, I don’t know anything.”

            “You think I do? You think I know exactly where this is supposed to go or what I feel for some snot-nosed brat? You think I’m supposed to figure this out, on my own, without talking to my mates about it?”

            “Just because they’re your mates and you’ve known them longer than me doesn’t mean you can just not tell me anything! You can’t have any type of relationship with someone when you don’t communicate with them.”

            “Obviously,” Levi drawls.

            Eren sighs and shakes his head. “Are you going to be honest when you tell them how you feel?”

            “Yes.”

            “Then don’t I deserve the same honesty?”

            “Yes.”

            “Then just tell me,” Eren begs, “tell me what you feel when you know you feel something! Don’t leave me in the dark.” He looks like he’s on the verge of tears, and, while that inspires sympathy in Levi, it also aggravates him, the assumption that Levi’s known every thought and feeling about Eren, that Levi’s just been toying with him instead of making emotional sacrifices just to keep Eren in his life.

            “I don’t know what I feel. I was trying to figure that out on my own. It’s not like I could’ve prepared myself for you.” Eren looks at Levi, and his gaze loses some of that desperate anger. Levi swallows, presses forward. “It feels like you want mate-level commitment, and you’re determined to get that without considering how difficult this is for me. You’re willing to destroy yourself for this, and that’s fine, but I’m worried about myself _and_ my mate _and_ you. I can’t be that selfish. I can’t throw myself blindly into this. I only allowed myself to take this as seriously as I wanted to very recently. You can’t expect me to have a clear-cut answer just because that’s what you want right now.”

            Eren nods and sighs. There’s anger everywhere in his features, in the curve of his lips, the shadows his body casts, the way his back presses against Levi’s fridge. Resignation, too. There’s something bittersweet about the way he licks his lips, speaks again. “You’re pretty committed to this, if you’re taking it this seriously.”

            _I’m probably taking this more seriously than you. I know what this will cost me._ “Yeah.”

            Eren nods again, slowly. “I’m sorry I exploded.”

            Levi smiles up at him, tries to look and sound soft even though part of him doesn’t want to, wants to cling to rough anger. “I’ll let you know what I tell them, alright?”

            “Alright.” Eren looks away, and Levi’s ready to return to the couch, except—

            “Eren.” Continues only when Eren looks up, clears his throat. “You aren’t a meaningless one-night-stand to me, but Farlan and I are mates, and we do have a physical relationship. Is that going to be a problem?” Levi’s heart races as Eren shakily reaches for his hands, holds them gently.

            “No, that’s fine. I understand.”

            Levi doesn’t respond, allows Eren to caress his palms. Exhaustion sweeps through his body, settling past his skin like a cold breeze. Blinks blearily, silently refuses to encourage further conversation.

            Eren steps closer, and his body is so warm, so nice, so soft. “You look exhausted,” he murmurs against Levi’s hair. “Should I leave?”

            Levi lets his head rest against Eren’s shoulder, separating their hands to wrap his around Eren, hold him. “M’tired, gonna sleep. Might be a bit boring for you.”

            “I don’t really have anything else I’d rather do.”

            Refusing Eren might be wise. Kicking him out, lovely, or practical, at least; however, Levi’s always hated sleeping alone, never cared for the emptiness of his bed or the way his arms wrap listlessly around himself, nothing to hug or hold.

            Closing his eyes and ducking his head, cheek pressed against Eren’s shirt, Levi’s voice is a rough mumble. “You’re welcome to stay, but I’m going to bed.”

            “Can I come with?”

            Levi grumbles and, instead of answering, pulls away and tugs Eren along behind him by the sleeve of his shirt. Crawls into his bed and hums approvingly when Eren’s arms surround him, pull him close, and the warmth is too nice, exhaustion too heavy. Sleep arrives like a blanket of snow, cold-warmth and blinding brilliance, chilly teeth and unsullied dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the national is very lovely. in other news, i'm freezing


	13. i still find pieces of your presence here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dinner conversation, Levi's anxiety, Levi getting some of his shit together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You by Colin Hey

           The orange bathwater makes Levi’s skin silky-smooth, slippery against the tub. Unlike yesterday, there is no music, no crooning about love or tomatoes, just Levi, alone, sinking underneath the water periodically. He feels scattered like loose tea leaves, repositioning himself in the water every time a stray thought leeches any fleeting peace, any ounce of quiet.

            Anxious about the dinner in two hours, anxious because he knows that he must face this, face his growing attachment, his mates, Eren. He’s been fortunate enough with the time he’s had alone. Wonders, absently, if it would be wise to invite Eren; is it fair that he must suffer alone, find himself lacking in his mates’ eyes without the person causing such extreme revulsion?

            Levi huffs. No, he can’t invite Eren over, not for the whole talk; he knows well enough that he’d just be delaying the inevitable. Even worse, avoiding it allows Isobel and Farlan to confront him at the same time as Hanji, if he’s not careful, if he doesn’t fix this tonight.

            All the same, it would be nice to keep this his thing for a little while longer.

            Sleeping with Eren that night had been uneventful, waking in his arms unenthusiastically pleasant. It was comfortable without fanfare, something Levi appreciated. When they did wake, Levi held Eren close for an hour before breaking away to make him breakfast and separate for the day.

            The intimacy he feels with Eren, however desirable at the moment, serves as a reminder of the upcoming dinner. As uncomfortable as discussing Eren may be, the evidence that Eren has a place with Levi soothes him.

            The water is lukewarm, now, and he must pull himself away from his anxiety and recollections. Working himself into an anxious frenzy over a conversation is unproductive, lukewarm bathwater distastefully indulgent against his thighs.

            Levi exits the water reluctantly, sometime later, having let himself merely float for another half hour despite being fully aware of how much time he wasted. Dries himself off as thoughtlessly as possible, focusing on the drag of his fingertips over his legs, arms, the brush of the towel against his stomach, the drops of water falling from his hair.

            There’s a sudden swelling of love in him, love for himself, his body, and it’s dizzying—he knows if he looks up into the mirror, he’ll see a grin splitting his lips open. He refuses to notice the mirror’s reflection, content to feel the joy spilling through him.  

            He allows himself to bask in the random bout of peaceful happiness while he can, lingering beside the tub.

~~~

            “It’s Eren, right?” Farlan spares little time for pleasantries once they’re seated at Levi’s table, ready to eat. His face is calm, though, his directness lacking harshness or anger.

            Levi nods. He’d appreciated Isobel’s avoidance of the topic until now, and he’s only somewhat guilty when Farlan speaks just as she opens her mouth.

            Isobel clears her throat. Her voice is calm, features impassive. “So, not your mate?”

            “No.”

            Isobel nods slowly, looks at Farlan. They gaze at each other for a minute, then shift their attention to Levi. She fiddles with her fork; no one has started eating, and Levi hopes his stomach doesn’t gurgle.

            “How are you doing with that?”

            Levi shrugs. “It’s shit, and he’s a shit, but he isn’t terrible.”

            Farlan smirks, Isobel sighs. “If you’re sure,” she says, “but how does he feel about the not-mates thing?”

            “He’s not a firm supporter of the concept, but he treats me like I’m his. Says he’s content with me leaving him but that he doesn’t want to leave me.”

            “Uh,” Farlan mutters, “cute?”

            Isobel’s face mirrors Levi’s discomfort. “Yeah,” he replies, picking up his fork, pointing it in her direction. “That’s all I got right now.”

            They drift into silence, eating the dinner slowly, largely avoiding eye contact with each other. If he looks up, Levi thinks he will be able to see them thinking, watch a silent conversation. Keeping his appetite is much more appealing. He already feels drained, feels like there’s not much more to say. Levi likes Eren, Eren likes Levi, and they’re trying even though it feels somewhat pointless.

            Farlan coughs, and Levi knows the brief lull is over.

            “How long has this been going on?”—“Can we meet him?”

            “Weeks, and. No.” Levi’s scowling as he fiddles with his fork. “You can meet him someday, Isobel. Not now.”

            “I wasn’t asking to meet him now! Keeping us waiting forever though isn’t wise. I’d like to properly meet him.”

            Levi sighs. “I’ll arrange something, alright? Just let me eat my fucking dinner.”

            Isobel and Farlan look at each other again, and Farlan shakes his head. “We support you, Levi. If you think he’s worth a relationship, then he’ll be important to us too. Take your time.”

            Now, Isobel’s expression shifts into something less unified, though her voice continues its careful pleasant tone. “I support you. I don’t know how you managed to get in a mess like this with someone so different from you, but it’s your decision. If you want us to meet him, that’s fine. It doesn’t need to be immediate. We can wait.”

            “I don’t know how it will work, either,” Levi admits. “I’m not sure about any of it. That’s why I kept it to myself.”

            “It seems like this is serious,” Farlan replies. “Taking it slowly and processing that by yourself is understandable.”

            “Farlan and I wouldn’t judge you for having an unorthodox romantic relationship. It’ll be difficult, though. More difficult than what we’ve dealt with.”

            “I know.”

            Levi’s throat hurts, and he’s not upset with the conversation’s progression, but he also profoundly does not want to be reminded that their relationship is complicated. Thankful as he is for Isobel and Farlan’s support, he’s at his emotional limit for the conversation.

            “Thank you,” he mutters a minute later. Farlan and Isobel smile warmly at him; everything is normal again.

~~~

            Sick at the thought of arranging any further conversations about mates, Levi avoids contact with Eren for a few days. Not that it takes much effort; frankly, all Eren’s letting him do is avoid starting anything. Eren’s refused to contact him, about the dinner or anything, and the silence seems pointed but accommodating nonetheless. They hadn’t addressed anything the morning of the dinner, either; Levi knows Eren’s leaving him with the responsibility of reaching out, and Levi takes advantage of his restraint as much as possible.

            Isobel and Farlan don’t bring Eren up again. They seem reasonably content with the details Levi’s provided, even if Isobel still seems skeptically distant, and Farlan appears happy for him. Even so, Levi’s contact with them is noticeably sparse; or, in the very least, less than he expected after admitting the presence of a new person in his love-life.

            Perhaps they weren’t terribly surprised, or, perhaps, Levi’s made a bigger deal out of the situation.

            It’s not that he hasn’t been aware of his tendency to intensify scenarios in his head past the boundaries of reasonable reality; it’s more that Levi finds himself achingly self-aware of himself in the middle of a meeting, staring at one of his business associates and realizing with uncomfortable intensity that neither of them possess intimate knowledge of the other’s life. That, open as they are, neither knows things like this.

            Levi is abnormal, but not abysmally so. His love interest unorthodox, but not earth-shattering. Perhaps, not now, but he’s prone to placing too much emphasis on outer eyes where they haven’t appeared (yet). How would Levi feel if his workers shirked their tasks merely because they found them unpleasant? How would Levi feel if his business partners communicated with him so haphazardly? Taking time to process the conversation is fine, but he can’t keep indulging in silence simply for silence’s sake. He knows he needs to start taking it more seriously rather than wallowing in its unorthodox nature.

            Still, his hands shake when he picks up his phone after the meeting.

            **Levi** : Hey, are you free for dinner tonight?

            **Eren** : not tonight, but i can do tomorrow?

            **Levi** : Works for me.

            **Eren** : sounds good :)

            **Eren** : did the dinner with Isobel and Farlan go okay?

            **Levi** : They’re okay with us.

            **Eren** : that’s good.

            Eren doesn’t seem mad at him, not at all, but there’s something nagging at Levi. Texting him an apology for waiting seems awkward.

            He’ll make it up to Eren later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter + too long period of time between chapters = yet another remorseful author's note with hopeful words about getting a better routine. except i am actually going to try to work on my block with writing
> 
> this whole story is very self indulgent for me, and very much focused on the slower-moving evolution of a relationship between two people, so the slowness is intentional. still, it does get easy for me to feel like working through this story is worthless. at the end of the day though, i enjoy walking with levi through this, so i guess this story will keep going 
> 
> i was going to wait longer to post, but i want to write eren + levi having dinner together separate from this chapter. felt important to break it here, i guess
> 
> happy holidays, whatever you practice, if you practice! holidays can be really tough, so wherever you are with that, whether it's nice and warm or difficult, i hope you can find time to breathe and rest and take care of yourself. sending love and warmth your way! <3


	14. you're the only thing I ever want anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> levi and eren are in the same room. stuff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Conversation 16 by The National

Levi returns home after work the following afternoon quietly excited to begin making dinner. He knows enough about Eren that, while he has yet to discover his favorite foods, he’s aware of his general preferences and therefore possesses a certain freedom.

            He begins preparing the dishes, absently humming along to music as he alternates between waiting and working, movement and stillness. Everything is nearly finished when he hears Eren knock on his door.

            Eren greets him with a grin and dips to kiss his cheek. Levi feels his face heat up as he quickly turns and leads him to the kitchen.

            “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring it over.” He imagines his voice shakes slightly. Knows this is firmly within the confines of his thoughts because Eren doesn’t comment on it.

            “Alright.”

            Eren’s beaming uncontrollably when Levi places their dishes on the table and sits across from him. It makes Levi’s chest warm, Eren’s appreciation, but he enjoys it. Tucks away this knowledge, Eren’s delight at intimate and romantic settings, startled when he finds himself comforted by the realization that he will have time to elicit the same reaction.

            They eat in pleasant silence for a little while, only breaking it with Eren’s enthusiastic praise and Levi’s short responses.

            “I wasn’t expecting something like this,” Eren admits when they’re finished, leaning forward just so, as though they’re at a restaurant rather than Levi’s quiet apartment, as though Eren wants to get closer to Levi, lean right over the plates and the candle and curl up in his lap.

            And, well. He understands this simply because the desire for closeness is mirrored; Levi wants to sit on the couch with Eren, but he doesn’t know quite how to say it without sounding moronic. He doesn’t want an intimate conversation like this, sitting across from each other, leaning over dirty plates. What appeal that has, he certainly can’t fathom; however, Eren wants to talk now, so he ignores his discomfort. “What were you expecting?”

            “…I dunno,” Eren mumbles. “Just not this, apparently. I’m glad things weren’t terrible with your mates.”

            Levi huffs. “They’re skeptical. Hanji doesn’t know yet, but that’ll change soon.”

            “Okay. Tell me how that one goes?”

            “Will do.” There’s a soft slip into silence, and Levi feels comfortable standing and taking their plates to the kitchen. Eren follows quietly, standing beside him at the sink and grabbing a dishtowel.

            “You wanna dry?” The question is superfluous, but it keeps him from more idiotic words. He hasn’t been this careful with speaking before their relationship; he feels terribly rusty, even with Eren giving him plenty of practice. Knows that, if it truly bothered Eren, Levi’s lackluster communication skills, he would’ve dropped away by now.

            Eren nods, and warmth spreads in Levi’s chest. He nudges Eren’s shoulder with his, fighting a smirk. It’s meaningful to Levi, Eren’s willingness to clean with him, Eren’s eagerness to share basic moments with him, not just the easily romantic or physically pleasing.

            “I’ve told my mates things went okay when we met up the first time. They were worried,” Eren explains when Levi’s scrubbing falters and he looks up at him. “Only because they didn’t know we were getting along well.” At Levi’s nod, Eren continues. “But they don’t know how serious it is. Do you want me to tell them?”

            Levi finishes cleaning the dish and hands it to Eren. “I want you to do what you’re most comfortable with,” he replies as he cleans the next dish and Eren dries the plate. “I’ll support whatever you choose.”

            “I want people in my life to know about you,” Eren replies. “You don’t have to meet them, right away,” something in Levi’s face must scare Eren because he rushes to add “or ever,” and, though that’s nowhere near what Levi was thinking of, it makes him feel better knowing Eren cares about his comfort. “They’ll want to meet you, though. Fair warning.”

            “If they want to, that’s fine. Just not now.”

            Levi finishes washing the dishes and watches Eren meticulously dry them. His hands are beautiful, tan and strong, rough and warm. He continues admiring his hands and arms until he feels Eren grinning at him. Before Levi can snap or glare at him, Eren bends down and kisses his forehead.

            “Cute,” Eren decides as he sets the towel on the countertop and rests his hands on Levi’s hips.

            Levi huffs but doesn’t remove them, only steps closer and kisses Eren. When they pull away, Levi gently tugs Eren to his couch, Eren complying with little more than a smirk.

            “Mine will want to meet you at some point.”

            “Alright.” Eren kisses his chin.

            “Hanji’s nonbinary. They/them pronouns. They’ll probably want to tell you themselves too, when you meet again.” Levi’s unashamed of his protectiveness, and he needs Eren to know that he’ll take Hanji’s side long before Eren’s if it involves their discomfort. He wants them to avoid being misgendered as much as possible, shifting the responsibility of basic decency on Eren.

            Eren smiles. “Okay. Armin’s nonbinary too. He’s good with any pronouns. Sometimes he has days where he prefers one set above the rest, but most of the time he’ll respond to any.”

            Levi nods. It’s probably wrong of him on some level, but he’s relieved that Eren accepts Hanji, and even more so because he too has a nonbinary mate. He’ll understand Levi’s protectiveness for Hanji, just as Levi will understand his for Armin. He rests his head on Eren’s shoulder and sighs. Eren reaches for his hand and threads their fingers together. Holds their intertwined hands up to his mouth and kisses Levi’s knuckles.

            There’s nothing left inside Levi. He is only breath frozen in his lungs and burning skin. Responding to his affection remains difficult, and there would be something left in him aggravated at his muted emotions, but Eren’s smile brightens and warms his skin as his lips graze his fingers.

            He leans forward, presses his forehead against Eren’s. Even as expressing emotions exceeds Levi’s comfort levels, this is easier than thinking about their mates getting further involved in their relationship. Easier than continuing the dialogue, preparing each other for an inevitable meeting.

            Up until this moment, there hasn’t been something concrete in their future to anticipate.

            Suddenly, Levi realizes—Eren’s been his first in many little ways. Letting someone in romantically, not rushing sex, introducing them to mates (eventually), interacting deeply with someone that isn’t his mate, being vulnerable consistently. His mates prepared him for this, indirectly, but in so many little ways that Levi’s heart races and his throat tightens. It isn’t that he’s only waited for a soulmate; he’s waited for someone to share his life with in a new way.

            That the person he intended was predestined for him is almost irrelevant in this moment, their noses brushing, Levi’s eyes closed. He wonders, fleetingly, whether Eren’s are open; too intimidated by the possibility that they are, he doesn’t look.

            Eren removes his forehead from Levi’s and presses a kiss on his cheek, his chin. Levi opens his eyes, stares into Eren’s, nearly shaking from the sheer vulnerability in Eren’s expression. He doesn’t know how to hold this devotion in his hands, keep it steady and protect it, but he finds himself vowing to try his hardest as his free hand rests on his hip, his thumb dragging circles against his clothing.

            “I don’t have anything in the morning,” Eren says, his voice slivering in the spaces of silence between their breath, lips brushing his chin suggestively.

            The blatant suggestion elicits something like thrilled terror in Levi. His hands feel like clusters of sharp pinpricks, as though they’ve been asleep. His mouth is sandpaper dry, painful. The possibility of going farther, how easy it would be, slipping his hand underneath Eren’s shirt, fucking on the couch or in his bedroom or in the shower; but.

            “I can’t,” Levi admits. His teeth feel painfully cold, as though he bit into ice cream. “Not that.” It’s impossible for Levi to discern whether he finds himself repulsed or petrified. He cannot measure the harshness in his steady, quiet dismissal of immediate progression. There is no easy language for this, and he finds himself biting his lip, looking away from Eren.

            “Would you be more comfortable if I left?” Eren’s pulled away, enough to respect Levi’s space without completely fleeing. He looks worried, if only for causing Levi discomfort.

            Levi, for all that he doesn’t want to progress to a sexual stage yet, finds himself deflating at the thought of Eren leaving. “You can stay. If you’d like, it’s up to you.”

            Eren presses close and kisses Levi. “I’d like to sleep in your bed with you, if you’d like.”

            Levi nods. “Now, or later?”

            “I can wait. I’m not tired.” He rests his head against Eren’s shoulder, holds his hand in his. Eren wraps his other arm around Levi, leaning together. He reaches for the remote and flips casually through the channels until they both find something they enjoy.

            Sleep sticks against Levi’s eyelids, and he stays half-awake only for the awareness of being snug and warm against Eren. He presses closer, almost forgetting the previous conversation until Eren shifts noticeably, still keeping Levi close, but there’s an awkwardness in his movements. The impulse to apologize for Eren’s discomfort is on the tip of his tongue, but the implications of apologizing for his lack of interest makes him mildly aggravated.

            He has nothing to be sorry about. And, Eren would agree with him. Levi knows Eren would be horrified if he knew Levi felt slightly guilty for wanting his company without sexual implications.

            Neither of them speaks much as they stare at the screen, only occasionally commenting. Levi wants to say something but finds himself incapable of forming the right words. What is there to say? His decision is final; he doesn’t regret it.

            Awkwardness taints any comfort Levi feels with Eren, leaning against him. He forces himself to speak.

            “You sure you’re okay with sleeping over?”

            “… Yeah?” Eren frowns, pulls away from Levi. “Do you not want me to?”

            “It’s fine.”

            Eren fully faces Levi, looking away only to mute the television. “Don’t act like it’s ‘fine’ when you’re behaving like this.”

            Levi is already profoundly done with this conversation, but he knows he can’t refuse to discuss it and expect things to be okay. Sighing, he turns towards Eren. “I don’t want you to leave, but I don’t want to have sex with you.”

            “And?”

            Levi grits his teeth. “And. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay even though you might want more.”

            Eren frowns. He looks like he wants to reach out for Levi, but his body remains almost completely motionless. “I like being near you. We don’t have to have sex at all.”

            Levi raises his eyebrows, but, before he can say anything, Eren continues speaking, his voice awkwardly loud in the silence. “I like sex, but I don’t need it. If you don’t ever want it, that’s fine. If you do want it, that’s fine. If you don’t want it to be part of our relationship, it’s fine.” His features soften, and Levi stares in what is probably a pathetic attempt at cliché adoration. “If you’d like me to spend the night without sex, I’ll be happy.”

            “Okay.” Levi clears his throat. “I believe you.”

            Eren grins. “Thank you.” Levi’s ready to resume their previous cuddling positon, but Eren interrupts with “is this okay with you,” and Levi worries that there’s nothing left of his heart besides a gross puddle.

~~~

            Before they go to bed, Eren checks again to make sure Levi’s still comfortable with his company. Levi responds with a much less aggravated than intended _yes_ and pulls him close for a kiss.

            Levi allows Eren access to his bathroom first, but Eren turns around, pausing in front of the door.

            “I didn’t bring anything for this. I didn’t expect to stay the night.”

            _My shirts might as well be crop tops on him,_ is Levi’s first thought following his announcement. His second is much less decent, focused on whether this means Eren will wear his clothes to bed or just a shirt and boxers; both are absolutely acceptable. It’s not like it would pain Levi at all, to see his Eren in either next to nothing or in his own clothing.

            “I can get you a spare toothbrush,” God knows he kept enough of those, “do you need anything else?”

            Eren’s cheeks flush. “Clothes?”

            _Who needs those_ , Levi first thinks, then flushes in embarrassment. He shouldn’t be thinking like that, not tonight. Definitely not in front of Eren. “Top drawer,” he replies, pointing to his dresser, “pick what you’d like.”

            Nodding, Eren passes him, shoulders brushing.

            Levi enjoys this intimacy, the quiet sounds of another person getting ready for bed alongside him. Closing the bathroom door, he begins his nightly rituals, mind wandering to Eren.

            He’s only truly disrupted when he reaches to take off his shirt, then finds that he’d forgotten to grab one for sleeping. Rather than re-button the shirt, he simply leaves the bathroom, mild irritation driving him to his room without thought.

            Eren’s shirtless. Holding a shirt in his hands, staring at it. He looks up as Levi enters, clearly not ready for bed either. Levi freezes, staring at the ease in Eren’s stance, the way his head swivels towards Levi.

            Promptly, he removes his gaze from Eren’s arms, his marks completely uncovered. Wordlessly, hands shaking, re-opens the dresser drawer, grabs the first shirt, and thinks of fleeing.

            From what he can tell, though, neither of them are moving, now. They’re just standing in the awkward silence, Eren staring at who-knows-what (Levi thinks he can feel Eren’s stare on his skin, but that must be his imagination) while Levi focuses on his hands resting against the top of his dresser.

            Eren clears his throat. Levi winces. He can’t move. There’s horror in his chest and squatting on his tongue, all of his instincts screaming to flee, yet he can’t.

            “Uh,” Eren eloquently interjects, testing the sound of his voice against Levi’s hostile silence. “I don’t normally wear shirts to sleep.”

            _Neither do I... I also normally sleep alone._ Levi then realizes that Eren might not sleep alone. That covering his marks probably doesn’t hold the same significance that it does for Levi.

            Levi can’t fathom letting people see his marks so casually. It’s almost enough to make him possessive of Eren’s, even though he knows it’s not their vulnerability on Eren’s skin, their bond and special moment branded on Eren’s person.

            “I don’t mind you seeing them. If you’re comfortable.” When Levi doesn’t say anything, Eren coughs, and Levi can hear him move, as though Eren’s broadcasting his movements for Levi’s sake. “I’m dressed. You can turn around, if you want.”

            Levi simply takes the clothes he came for and leaves without looking at him directly. Changes in the bathroom quickly, with some small amount of distaste. Tonight is not a night where Levi wants to see Eren like that; sex is too much at this point, much less seeing his marks, acknowledging them, being allowed access to something so sacred and personal. Something that doesn’t belong to him at all.

            Furthermore, he doesn’t understand what Eren meant. _You can turn around, if you want_ , as though it would be completely acceptable for Levi to just… stay, as they were. As though he would crawl into his own bed, half-dressed, and pull Eren against his chest, just like that. It’s a leap of faith, perhaps, but not one Levi will appreciate until morning, or next week.

            It’s not something to discuss or fight about, though; Eren giving himself as best he can to Levi, in a situation that neither of them completely anticipated. He doubts Eren planned on being shirtless for Levi. He knows enough to understand that not everything revolves around himself.

            Once he’s finished in the bathroom, he simply kisses Eren softly as he slides under his covers beside him. As he drifts to sleep, Levi lets himself simply exist here, with Eren, with a person he cares about.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had something to say but forgot it


	15. (cause i) don't want to live my life alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sweetness, acceptance, peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe

This night, Levi wakes up a few hours earlier than normal, Eren’s arms wrapped around him. It’s not quite a surprise, though Eren is becoming something familiar, something soft and reliable. Levi knows he will soon rest completely peacefully in his arms and wake certain in the knowledge that Eren will linger for longer than a day.

            It’s enough to make Levi grin, thankful for the warmth of his arms and the surety of his affection.

            _How could I want anything other than this?_

Levi blinks, bites his lip. His eyes sting. He can’t think like that, no matter how comfortable he gets. He has a duty to his soulmate.

            (He has a duty to Eren, too, but he can’t compare the two, not without a good amount of heartbreak.)

            It’s not a simple emotion, even if the lack of fleeing comforts him. Levi’s done distancing himself from Eren, both because he finds it pointless now and because he genuinely doesn’t want to hurt Eren until he absolutely has to. He loves Eren, and he’s staying, in this moment.

            Still, it hurts his heart, how selfish he is with what Eren so freely gives. There is nothing romantic about Eren’s eventual guaranteed pain. There is nothing sweet about the thought of Levi’s romantic soulmate. He can’t bring himself to hate them, but he certainly cannot find it in himself to be excited for their entrance into his life.

            Eren sighs softly, snorts in his sleep. Moves closer to Levi.

            It’s probably a little pathetic, but Levi likes the thought that, on some level, he sensed Levi’s need for additional comfort. Of course, he’d rather Eren not know why he needed it. Eren doesn’t deserve to know that Levi thought of someone else--even if it was negatively--when he was currently in his arms.

            Levi twists and ducks to press a kiss to Eren’s shoulder, moving as gently as possible.

 

~~~

 

            Morning softly shines through Levi’s curtains. There’s not an exact moment where he jumps from sleep to awake, but the shift isn’t gentle, either. His hands touch Eren’s skin underneath his shirt. He ought to worry about how he reached like this for Eren in his sleep, how they’ve moved into a different position, how he’s mildly concerned that he’s watching a not-quite-asleep Eren breathe too carefully, body warm and soft and sturdy.

            “Morning,” Levi mumbles as he leans down, presses a kiss to the back of Eren’s neck.

            Eren groans, then abandons pretenses of slumber. “Morning, love,” he replies, blinking slowly.

            _You called me love,_ Levi wonders as he continues kissing Eren’s neck, pressing each kiss against his skin with careful gentleness until Eren slowly turns to face Levi. His hands surround Levi’s face, though he avoids kissing Levi’s lips (much to his delight), instead kissing his forehead.

            When Eren pulls away, his nose is wrinkled as he squints somewhat dramatically at Levi. “I… I just called you love, didn’t I?”

            Levi hides a grin. “I wasn’t gonna make a big deal out of it if you weren’t.”

            Eren hums, his features easing into a softer, sleepier expression. Something neutral, like he too is trying not to show Levi a smile. “I see.”

            Levi smirks. “I was expecting your eternal gratitude, actually.”

            Eren sighs and turns to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, a lazy, bemused smirk curled around his reply. “Gave that away, unfortunately.”

            “Oh,” Levi’s voice is mock-solemn, mimicking Eren, moving to lay on his back but tilting his face towards Eren. “Who’d you give that to?”

            Eren beams at Levi, eyes crinkling adorably as Levi’s stomach growls, and he senses the cheesy answer before it spills from Eren’s lips. “God, because They gave--”

            Levi’s hand covers Eren’s mouth, making the words muffled as he sighs. “You’re a cheesy fuck.”

            Eren starts licking his hand, hoping that the gesture will gross him out; unfortunately, it only amuses Levi. Why he thinks Levi will be horrified when they kissed last night is beyond him, especially when they’d just been kissing.

            Levi pulls his hand away once Eren stops licking and starts trying to bite him. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, wiping his hand on the comforter. “You were being so cute, too, then you ruined it.”

            “All for you, dear,” Eren teases.

            Levi rolls his eyes but reaches to kiss his cheek. Grumbling playfully, he rises from the bed and heads to the bathroom. Stares at himself in the mirror, half-drunk with giddy contentment, he brushes his teeth and washes his face, then returns to bed.

            “My turn?” Eren asks as he rises from the bed.

            “If you’d like. Left a spare toothbrush and some toothpaste out for you.”

            “Thanks,” Eren tosses over his shoulder as he rushes to the bathroom.

            Levi leans back, resting on his pillows and fighting a growing smile. Despite himself, he’s sure the joy spills out regardless. Eren returns looking like what Levi feels, surging towards the bed and tucking himself beside Levi.

            “Hello”

            “Hello,” Eren replies and kisses him on the lips.

            As they kiss, Eren slowly moves to straddle Levi, continuing their kissing with a softness that makes goosebumps rise on Levi’s arms. His hands rest on Eren’s hips, encouraging their new position.

            He can feel Eren shaking, but he can’t bring himself to break the kiss. He lets Eren take full control, letting Eren eventually pull away and rest his forehead against Levi’s.

            “I’m here,” Levi murmurs. “Everything’s alright.”

            “I’m alright,” Eren replies. “Just need a minute. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

            Levi realizes what Eren’s referring to slowly, the weight of Eren’s legs beside his body, pressed against him. The way that, while Levi’s simply been enjoying a moment of thoughtless intimacy, Eren’s been holding himself back. Levi feels his hardness against him and fights against a sudden surge of panic.

            This is what he wanted, when he wasn’t thinking. Unencumbered by obligation, warm and rested.

            One of his hands skims up Eren’s torso, touching him softly as it moves to rest against Eren’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

            Eren’s body tenses as though he’s ready to leave, and the hand on Eren’s hip grasps him desperately enough to make Levi more embarrassed, if this wasn’t already mortifying. “If you’re only leaving for my sake, please don’t.” Levi opens his eyes and clears his throat. “If you’re leaving just to make me comfortable, I’m comfortable like this.”

            Eren stares down at him. Licks his lips. “I should’ve asked first.”

            Levi shrugs. “I wasn’t pushing you away at all.”

            “Still.”

            Levi hums and stretches upward, pressing a kiss to Eren’s forehead. “Do you need to leave?”

            “I’d rather not,” Eren mutters, “can I keep kissing you, or is the mood ruined?”

            “I’d like that. If it’s good for you, too.”

            Eren nods. “Just give me a sec.”

            The pause isn’t uncomfortable, Levi closing his eyes and resting while waiting for Eren. Levi ignores the urge to keep his eyes open, ignores the discomfort of waiting in the darkness. It helps, even if the anxiety finds it disturbing, to let Eren have his privacy. He knows he’d need it if the positions were reversed.

            Levi wants to return to the state beforehand, where he wasn’t thinking, only sleepily pulling Eren close, but he knows that the moment is gone.

            Eren nuzzles his neck, lips grazing his chin. Soon enough, his lips trail up to Levi’s, and they lose themselves in the indulgent, careful affection.

 

~~~

 

            Eren is chopping celery while Levi watches the pot full of pasta on the stove when his front door opens and slams shut, familiar footsteps thudding loudly for seconds before Hanji bursts into the kitchen.

            Levi swallows. “Hey shitface, what happened with the conference? Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

            Hanji looks suspiciously less surprised than they ought to be to see Eren in his apartment. “It went well. Well, the last few days were basically useless, repetitive experiments that have their merits but aren’t the least bit interesting. Especially when Is and Farlan mentioned a dinner they had with you two.”

            Eren and Levi exchange glances. Levi turns back to the pasta, moving slowly to drain the water and avoid needing to respond. He sees Eren wipe the knife blade with a paper towel before facing Hanji.

            “I believe we’ve met,” he says.

            “I remember,” they reply. Without turning around, Levi knows they are peering at Eren, probably leaning disgustingly close.

            He knows better than to tell them off in his kitchen. They won’t actually listen when he’s blustering, and he’s too tired to fight this conversation. “You’re lucky there’s enough for three.”

             “You know me,” they say as Levi turns around, stomach twisting when he sees Hanji and Eren staring at each other, “ _lucky_.”

            “I’ll take care of the rest, Levi,” Eren says, returning to the stove. “Go catch up with them; I’ll be fine.”

            Levi nods. He wants to offer some reassurance to Eren, kiss his cheek or something equally cheesy, but he can’t bring himself to do it in front of Hanji.

            “Did you have a safe trip?”

            Hanji nods, grins at Levi once they both sit down at the table. “The flight was delayed three hours, but other than that it was fine. The usual shit.”

            Levi hums. “I was going to tell you about Eren when you got back.”

            “I’m not upset; I wanted to see it for myself.”

            Relief drags Levi’s lips into a grateful smile. It’s comforting to see that they aren’t truly upset, only wary. Levi understands. He has been the same way with their other platonic mate, knows how potent the urge to protect someone you love is. Levi only takes a sip of perfectly cooled tea.

            They fiddle with their phone, no doubt letting their loved ones know they’re okay--and gossiping with Isobel and Farlan. Levi _tchs_ softly at them, hiding an embarrassed blush as best he can with another mouthful of tea.

            Eren returns with the food after a few minutes of peace between the two. When he notices that he doesn’t disturb the soft silence between them, Eren smiles.

            Hanji stares at him in amusement. “Just because I haven’t bitten off your head yet doesn’t mean that I won’t.”

            “I know,” Eren replies.

            “But. That doesn’t mean Levi gets off easy either.”

            Eren looks puzzled, but Levi only hums.

            “Just because I love Levi doesn’t mean I’m blind to his faults,” Hanji explains. “If he hurts you, I’m not going to act like he’s faultless just because he’s my mate.”

            “It’d be disappointing if you did,” Levi says.

            They eat the food together in the same comfortable silence, Hanji occasionally interrupting to ask Eren asinine questions. Levi’s used to their inquisitive blathering, but this is an opportunity to learn more about Eren without being vulnerable.

            Of course, because he’s not asking about things he wants to know, and because he’s using Hanji’s questioning, the knowledge is somewhat lacking.

            He learns that Eren can’t stand peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, for one, which isn’t unhelpful, but it’s also not something he’d work with in the first place. Jelly doesn’t belong anywhere but on scones, in his opinion.

            Still. It’s nice enough to just listen to their voices mingle together in his apartment. He’s astonished yet comforted by the nonchalance in the exchange between his not-mate and mate.

            There’s love in front of him, in between the people here. There’s warmth and connection, and, for the first time, Levi thinks it’s enough for him. It’s enough that these are people that love him, and that he loves.

            Eren is worth everything, and Levi finds himself wondering if he can keep him in his life after all. If there isn’t an either-or.

            “Wait till you see Levi on laundry day though,” Hanji rambles, interrupting Levi’s thoughts. “That’s Levi at his finest.”

            “Shut up.”

            Eren’s grinning uncontrollably. He leans forward on his elbows, the empty plates on the table inconsequential in the wake of this new information. It’s almost embarrassing, how much there is to know about himself, when Levi thinks about Eren’s knowledge of his quirks compared to Hanji’s. Still, he makes no effort to fight Hanji.

            “You’ll have to see for yourself,” Hanji answers, eyes sparkling with mischief.

~~~

 

            “I think you’re falling in love with him,” Hanji teases from across the table.

            “I think you’re full of shit,” Levi grumbles, fiddling with his fork.

            Isobel and Farlan say nothing, but their grins sneak through. the air like song, loud and bubbling. Levi’s chest is warm. His feet brush against Farlan’s, and his free hand is clasped in Isobel’s. He can feel their quiet laughter at Hanji’s story about an awkward dinner the second night of the conference.

            “I take it you don’t want him dead,” Levi says as they stood in the kitchen together, Levi hand-washing the dishes.

            Hanji shrugs. “He’s alright.”

            “He could be worse,” Isobel says

            Farlan smirks. “I don’t suppose there’s a threesome in the future, hm?”

            Levi snorts, nearly dropping the sponge in his hand. He shakes his head and continues to scrub the plate in his other hand. Sure, he doesn’t mind, but he’d rather wait until Eren knew his mates longer before even thinking about mentioning it. Though, when he’s honest with himself about it, he doesn’t think it’s the worst suggestion in the world. He’s definitely willing, if Eren and Farlan are.

            “I never put much stock in mates, anyways,” Hanji drawls as they lean against Levi’s fridge. “Not like y’all do, anyways.”

            Isobel snorts. “You quizzed us about our mate marks with each other and Levi the second time we met.”

            “Not the first?”

            Levi finishes scrubbing the dishes clean long before Isobel and Hanji quit their playful bickering. He stands beside Farlan, pretending to read the news on his phone. He is peaceful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's more to the overall universe that i'll hopefully work on at a later date, but, for now, this is done. 
> 
> this was supposed to focus on Levi confronting his internal bias as he falls in love with Eren. i believe this will be an ongoing issue for him, possibly for the rest of his life, because unlearning social stuff like this can take a lot of time and work. but. for the sake of his narrative, i believe this is a productive ending 
> 
> i'll be making this into a series soon, in case i work on continuing this storyline. thank you for reading, and i hope this was a nice last chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) feel free to comment if you'd like, or drop by my [tumblr](https://knightlysoulsnatcher.tumblr.com)


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